Fred and George Did It
by Policin' Yer Grammar
Summary: Pranking gets out of hand when Harry becomes a prima donna, Ron his minion and Ginny is a loose Weasley with a slight case of memory loss. Can this loose Weasley team up with a narcissistic Malfoy to take down Fred and George, or will the twins conquer?
1. Prologue

**A/N:**

**I've decided to re-work the characters and thus, "re-publish" this fanfiction in order to make it funnier. Hope you enjoy :)**

This story takes place during Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts, and Ginny's sixth. I am assuming that nothing that occurred in the books past **Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire** happened in this story, and it is just another normal year at Hogwarts…(if there ever was a normal year at Hogwarts…)

Also, Fred and George are technically seventh years as well due to having not passed their N.E.W.T.s and their mother insisting they get higher marks before they graduate.

WARNING: If you don't like the idea of Ron being heterosexual, then homosexual, and then bi-sexual, Ginny being a shameless whore, and Harry being an egotistical ass then read no further.

Lastly, I do not own any of these characters, however, the storyline is mine. Enjoy!

**Prologue**

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out shrilly from the epicenter of the Burrow. She stood at the very base of the tottering home's stairs, hollering upward.

Fred appeared out of nowhere from beside her, a large noise resonating through the house, "Yes?"

George materialized an instant later with an equally loud _crack_. Mrs. Weasley, shocked momentarily, swiftly returned to her previous state of rage. She pointed a finger accusatorily toward Fred. Then she hesitated and, unsure of which was the true culprit, swung her finger threateningly toward George as well.

"_What_ever possessed you to turn Ginny's hair purple?" She demanded, her voice already wild. "I have ENOUGH going on in this house: with Ron eating every last scrap of food that we own, Percy developing feelings towards men, Charlie getting sent to the hospital every other week from dragon 'accidents', Ginny bringing home a different boy every day it seems and then…" Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper, causing one of the twins – she wasn't entirely sure which – to gulp, "I have to deal with _you _two."

George shifted slightly from one foot to the other, "It's just a bit of fun," he paused at his mother's expression, "and she started it anyways!"

"Ginny stepped on one of our experiments," Fred interjected, before his mother could commence her tirade.

"Completely destroyed it." George concluded.

"Bloody whore," Fred muttered darkly.

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes, unsure if she had heard correctly. But before she could properly reprimand them Ginny came tearing into the room, her face a red deep enough to match her previously red hair. Before anyone could stop her, she drew her wand, screaming a choice mumble of words. Fred and George instantly fell to the ground in a flash of light, writhing, as they attempted to wipe the bat boogies off of themselves. Ginny glared at them mutinously, pointing at her purple hair.

"You'll pay for this!" She growled between her bared teeth.

"Like we haven't,"

"Already?" George demanded, finishing for Fred. He wiped more of the slime from his clothes and surreptitiously wiped it on the banister. Fred was pushing himself up off the floor as Mrs. Weasley condescendingly glared down at them.

"You deserved it," She assessed, turning to Ginny, her face attaining the hue it only could when there was fresh blood to scream at. "_GINERVA MOLLY WEASLEY!_"

Ginny jumped a little where she stood, her eyes widening. She made to turn and flee from the room – but it was too late: her mother was already in for the kill.

"How dare you resort to magic in my own house! I am perfectly capable of maintaining order _especially_when it concerns my own sons! They may be irresponsible, trouble-makers and soulless capitalists – but you…" She gained a fanatical glint in her eye, "don't get me _started_on you. What boy is it now you've got stashed away in your room? I am _ashamed_at some times to call you my daughter. For once, just _once_could you TRY to keep your clothes on? I will not have you soiling the family name with your flippant, liberal ways. Have you never _heard_of the Weasley by-laws? We – do – not – raise – bloody – WHORES! A Weasley _never_engages in such activity before marriage. Except you! You go about, flamboyantly trashing every value we have strived to hold up! Do you have any shame I mean –"

Ginny's eyes glazed over as the rant continued. She had heard it all before: her mother would begin reprimanding her for her current crime and then not-so-smoothly transition into denouncing her as a slut and questioning her blood line. Instead, she focused on more important things.

She stuck her tongue out at her snickering brothers, and even managed a few hushed insults in their direction. Her mother didn't appear to notice – she was working herself up into some sort of frenzy and her eyes were bulging out of her head, her mouth frothing.

" – nothing more than a trashy whore. This behavior is not to continue, do you understand? Are you even _listening_to me, Ginerva?"

Ginny sighed wistfully, thinking of the boy she had cleverly stashed in her room. He was undoubtedly not her mousy boyfriend, Colin – the one her mother just _had_to approve of. It took her several moments to realize she was being spoken to. "So, I'm going to my room. Kay?" She flounced past her overbearing family and made it halfway up the stairs before she remembered.

"Wait – my hair's still purple!"

What was most definitely a menacing growl emanated from Mrs. Weasley as her fury rounded back on the smirking twins.

"Fred – George! Fix it, now!"

The pair sighed heavily, but complied nevertheless. One of them waved his wand while the other threw Ginny a "this is only the beginning" glare. Ginny didn't notice – too distracted by her shiny red hair and tore up the stairs to her room.

After she left the room was deathly quiet, the twins shifted uneasily under their mother's murderous glare. The pair looked at each other knowingly, and one touched his nose, as if asking a question. The other tugged at his ear, winking. It was Fred who spoke first,

"Really hate to pop in an out, but…"

"Duty calls." George vanished with a crack soon followed by Fred. Mrs. Weasley let out an enraged shriek which echoed up the stairs.

"FRED! GEORGE! I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU BOYS! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Silence greeted her. She hollered up again. "DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!"

_Up in Fred and George's room…_

Fred landed on top of George in a jumbled heap on the floor of their room. He disentangled himself and stood up, brushing himself off while George painfully followed, rubbing at his leg.

"We really need to work on our apparating technique." George concluded.

"First we have to get back at Ginny." Fred interjected menacingly, he walked over to the door and made sure it was securely shut. "Colloportus!" Fred finished. "Just to make sure, although I think all the gadgets we have in place will stop her."

"_Nothing_can stop mum. Not when she's on the prowl." George replied. There was a crack and Mrs. Weasley appeared in the center of the room.

"Fred and George Weasley!" She began, taking a deep breath before she launched into her tirade.

George swore violently at the sight of her and Fred disappeared in a crack of sound. Without another moment's hesitation George followed. They could hear Mrs. Weasley's screaming voice that was so vicious it seemed to shake the very walls about them.

_In Fred and George's closet…_

The twins remained silent, cupping their hands over their mouths as they heard the angry screams and shouts of their mother reverberate about them. Then there was a pause followed by a crack as Mrs. Weasley apparated out. Making sure that it wasn't a show, the two waited in complete silence for several long, agonizingly cramped minutes. After making sure the coast was clear they exited the closet and looked about.

"She didn't confiscate anything like she did last time." George mused, hastily looking all the contraptions and experiments over.

"That's a relief." Fred replied, looking over the experiments on the other side of the room, "Reckon she learned her lesson from last time, eh?" Last time Mrs. Weasley had touched one of their experiments – in an attempt to punish them for the misdeeds – she grew monstrous warts that wouldn't disappear by magic and she was itching for three weeks after they were removed at St. Mungo's.

"We need to get back at Ginny." He concluded.

"She blasted us with boogies." Fred answered, "Little sis' has no idea what her brothers can do."

George picked up random experiments, "I know, we'll put this into her chocolate frogs. Ginny will be covered in acne for two weeks – it might even put an end to her sluttish ways. No one would go near her!" He began cackling evilly, but Fred interrupted him.

"No." Fred scratched his chin, "That's a classic – we already tried it on Ron. Hermione got rid of it in two days! No, we need to try something new. Maybe turn her into a monstrous caterpillar for a few hours?"

They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated new, exciting abilities to test out on their unfortunate sister. It was several hours later, the sun had set, and the pair hadn't moved an inch. To an outsider it would appear as if neither had even blinked.

"No, I have it," Fred grinned maniacally over to his other half as he launched into a full on explanation of how exactly they would exact their revenge.

_Exactly 168 hours, 52 minutes and 28.5823 seconds later…_

"No! No! You're supposed to _boil_ the taffy first, not freeze it, George!" Fred exclaimed, his voice reaching a shockingly shrill octave. He shoved his brother out of the way, careful not to knock over any of the precarious bottles of smoking liquids about them.

"No! The only way to make sure it's un-cleanable is to freeze it and then sprinkle ground Chinese mandrake leaves on it!" George argued.

Fred sighed patiently, rolling his eyes at his cohort. "_Clearly_you have to boil it first. And _then_you have to _roll_ it in _un_ground _Japanese_mandrake leaves. Once you let the hot water soak in the mandrake leaves for thirty minutes and twenty nine point three seconds you freeze it. Honestly, have you not learned _anything_from our experimentations? We cannot afford to fail. This is a matter of honor, my brother!"

George scowled, "They are clearly _Chinese_mandrake leaves! Examine the coloring, you git."

"Did you just call me a git?" Fred demanded, coloring.

"Yes I did."

Fred shoved George roughly before he replied, gesturing towards the boiling pot. "Observe." He dumped his taffy into a cauldron and proceeded to boil it.

"I'm watching," George answered him snidely, "but not seeing anything happening."

"That's because it hasn't been the allotted time, you idiot." Fred retorted, "And I haven't stirred in the dragon scales."

_20,160 minutes and a successfully executed evil plan later…_

Ginny boarded the Hogwarts Express without much trepidation. Fred and George had not done anything to her for the last four days, so her fight with them seemed to have been drawn at a stalemate after Ginny had convinced Colin to set some skunks loose in their room (the twins could not show themselves for three days).

She looked for an open booth, but found none until she stumbled upon Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Hey guys!" She greeted them. Harry was sprawled out over the seat, leaving only enough room for Hermione. He temporarily removed the _Daily Prophet_from his face, where it had previously lay shielding his face from unwanted gawkers. He glanced lazily at Ginny, and grimaced slightly.

"Minion," He muttered, bored. Ron quickly jumped to his feet, sliding the door open for his sister. Harry tossed him a chocolate frog in payment. Ron caught it between his teeth.

He was about to replace the newspaper over his face before he paused, remembering something. He sighed resignedly and glanced towards Ginny, motioning towards his face. "Your thirty seconds to stare at this entirely divine creature. Starting…now!"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry, and opened her mouth to insult him.

Harry, assuming her words to be what they were not cut through her, his tone lofty. "Yes," He sighed theatrically, "I have a scar. Yes, I defeated Lord Voldemort at the age of infancy. And _yes,_something this completely perfect can and _does_exist. Try not to drool," He paused, cocking his head slightly, and then returned the _Daily Prophet_to his face.

"This concludes your thirty seconds," came the muffled droning beneath the paper.

Hermione looked up from the book she had been reading, and smiled slightly at Ginny. "It would prove more comfortable for you if you sat adjacent to Ronald. You are straining your articular cartilage by continuing to remain perpendicular. There is a high chance that this could lead to your knees weakening later in life."

"Why does Ginny have to sit with us?" Ron demanded, "I was hoping I wouldn't have to see her at all."

Harry raised his hand from his side, and Ginny heard the stifled, "Point!" emanate from Harry.

Ron beamed at his Master's approval and silently started chanting to himself, "Give me another frog. Give me another frog, Master. Give me…"

Ginny glared at Ron and tossed her carryon right at his face, "Newsflash, _minion,_you happen to live with me. We happen to go to the same school – we happen to be in the same House! We happen to be on the same Quidditch team! We happen to eat all three meals at the same exact table every single day of the bloody year!"

Ron looked taken aback at her outburst, almost speechless. When he spoke it was clear he was outraged, "Only _Master Potter_is allowed to call me minion!"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Harry reprimanded from beneath the paper, "Sometimes Hermione is allowed to as well." Then Harry ripped the paper from his head and started playing absentmindedly with Hermione's curls.

"Honestly, I don't even want to be around _any of you_," Ginny confessed, plopping down –regrettably – next to Ron. She crossed her legs.

Harry groaned heavily, "Oh the _exhaustion_that grips at me!" He collapsed back on the seat, abandoning the self-assumed task of playing with Hermione's hair. He resumed his lazy, sprawled out position on the couch, "If only…" He sighed rolling over unto his stomach.

"If only what, Master?" Ron questioned, eager to please his Master…eager for more chocolates.

"Oh, oh the _agony_. No, no I couldn't ask it. Not even of you." Harry flopped around again, resting his head in Hermione's lap. He lay his arm across his face – determined to shield his face from the unwanted gaping.

"I will do it, Master. I will do anything you ask of me!" Ron stood up proudly, clapping a hand to his heart.

"You're right – of course I could ask it of you. You're _my_servant. Fetch me my laptop. Turn it on. Log in on "Harry Potter Is On The Train To Hogwarts For Fifth Year #7" account. Find out the password yourself: I don't remember it. Then boot up instant messaging. Do it now!" Harry snapped, falling silent for a moment. Then he abruptly flew up – knocking the book from Hermione's hand. He disregarded the throbbing pain from his head and started screaming at Ginny.

"I feel it! I feel your eyes! Watching me! Agghh!" He hid himself into Hermione's shoulder. She patted him comfortingly, after retrieving her book from the floor. She threw Ginny a frosty glare.

"Who do you think you are to come whoring in here and setting Harry in such a state! Don't you _know_You-Know-Who is after him! Don't you _know_Harry's the only one who can save the world! We haven't the time for your filthy wares! _Get – out!_You haven't the slightest clue how long it took for him to recover from his last fit!" She murmured comfortingly to Harry while simultaneously giving Ginny death glares.

Ginny ignored this, and leaned back. If Hermione thought she was leaving the only available compartment then she had another thing coming. It was several minutes before Ron returned, bearing Harry's precious laptop.

"Here, Master." Ron held the laptop outstretched in his oafish hands.

Harry turned from Hermione with a tear streaked face and snatched the laptop from his minion. His face lit up like a child's would at a candy store. He threw several frogs in Ron's direction and began furiously typing at the keyboard, oblivious to the world around him.

Suddenly the train swerved to the side, knocking Ginny to the floor. Amid screams and oaths, Ron lunged out towards Harry. He made a joyful squawking as he rescued the laptop from a disastrous fall. Harry patted Ron genially on the head. Hermione nodded approvingly, before her gaze snagged on the looser of the Weasleys.

"Ginerva, you have some sort of hot pink toffee on your arse," She commented calmly, before returning to her book. Harry joined his minion in a fit of giggles at this news.

Ginny's face grew mortified, as she felt towards her ass. She shrieked – it was…_sticky_. She grabbed her wand with her other hand and waved it towards the stain,

"Scourgify!" A red flash lit up the compartment, engulfing Ginny. It flung her back on top of Harry.

"Oh my God!" Harry shrieked, his voice reaching a feminine tone, "Oh. My. God. Oh – my – God!" He then proceeded to full out horror-movie scream. Ginny thought she made out the words "get", "whore", "off", "precious" and "God" from Harry. But right now nothing was making sense to her. She was quite sure she heard "minion" a couple of times as well.

Words weren't making sense. She couldn't even remember where she was – what she was doing. Whose lap she was being hastily torn from by some ape-like beast.

"Get off my Master!" The Ape roared. She was quite sure she felt spittle land on her before she was bodily flung to the ground of the cabin. Slowly Ginny saw her vision fading back as a terrified, screaming black-haired boy was gawking at her incredulously and the curly-haired girl had even managed to pull her nose out of the book.

"Harry," She mused aloud, frowning slightly. The name seemed familiar.

"She _dares_address me! Me personally!" Harry whirled about incredulously, addressing the girl beside him, "She _dares_use my name aloud!" He seemed speechless for a few more moments, "Yes, prostitute. _Everyone_knows who I am! Perfection doesn't just _happen_to reside in my flawless form! I am a GOD, damnit! Address me as such."

The words meant nothing to her. She flicked her gaze towards the girl next to him, who was staring at her curiously.

"Herm…Hermio –"

"NO!" Harry screamed out, outraged. He motioned to Ron to kick her; he did, "You already took my name in vain! You shall not take Hermione's as well! Only _I_am to call her by her true name. Bugger off, you prostitute. We are not interested in your services."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted the furious boy, her voice calm, "I do believe she's…_damaged_…herself with that spell." She gave Ginny's vacant glance a meaningful look, "I mean she's never really been _all here_but now it seems more so."

"A damaged prostitute," Harry snorted, "now I'm not the only one won't be interested." He flung himself back down onto the couch.

"A damaged prost…prostituetiel…like she got raped?" Ron asked oafishly, chortling to himself.

The cabin fell silent for several moments. Then Harry rose his arm up, pointing a finger up.

"Question!" He announced sharply. He contorted his body about, twisting around to better face Hermione. He stayed in this position for a few seconds before deeming it unsuitable for his Adonis-like self and then hopped up. He repositioned himself around Hermione, who was watching him with an amused smile.

"Yes?"

Harry giggled slightly at some unknown joke, "If you rape a prostitute," He broke into another fit of giggles and it took him several moments to recover, "Is it…would it…If you rape a prostitute is it considered rape or…" He wagged a finger, "or is it considered _shoplifting_?"

He topped over, falling to the floor with a thud as he laughed at his own joke, gasping for air. Ron started sniggering along with Harry. Ginny watched this all with widened eyes, unsure of what to make of it. Then Harry's fit subsided and he started screaming up at Ron.

"What are you doing laughing? Pick me up off of this _filthy_ undeserving-of-my-presence floor! What are you waiting for, minion? Pick me up!" Ron obeyed wordlessly, the smile wiping off his features.

Harry glared expectantly up at Ron's confused face, he raised his eyebrows expectantly, motioning towards himself.

"Yes, Master?"

Harry sighed, muttering about the incompetence of minions these days, "Clean me, idiot!"

"Scourgify!" Ron shouted out. Harry nodded approvingly before collapsing once more on the cushions, "Get your own damn chocolate."

"Toffee!" Ginny suddenly screamed out to the room at large. Everyone's eyes fixed on her and Hermione nodded understandingly.

"Yes. Toffee: noun, a chew candy made of sugar or molasses boiled down, oftenwith butter, nuts, et cetera." She returned back to her book without another word.

Ginny leapt up, starting to panic as her memories flooded back to her, "I can't go to Hogwarts with toffee on my arse!" She shrieked.

Hermione didn't answer, she was too absorbed in her book. Ron was too busy chewing down his chocolate frog. Then Harry screamed out,

"It's shoplifting!" Then he returned to furiously typing into his laptop.

"Were Fred and George in here?" Ginny demanded.

Ron crossed his bulky arms. "You no force me to talk."

Ginny glared at Ron, narrowing her eyes. Then she forgot why she was even mad in the first place. But before she could ask, Hermione answered her previous question.

"Yes, they were. They left almost as soon as they came though."

"Who did?" Ginny managed to string the two words together.

"Freeeed…and…Geeeoorggeee," Hermione said slowly, never glancing up from the riveting pages of her book.

"Oh my God!" Ginny exclaimed, feeling at her ass, "There's toffee on my ass!"

Hermione sighed and Harry even managed a stifled giggle.

Ginny promptly sat down again next to her oafish brother. "Hermione do you have an extra robe I could borrow?"

"No, I left them at my house by accident, mum was going into hysterics because I was about to be late." Hermione didn't seem overly apologetic, turning a page sharply, "Sorry."

"Do you have a spare robe I could borrow, Harry? I would return it as soon as I saved up enough money to buy myself a new robe of course…" Ginny began to ramble. Ron cut in, shocked.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley! You _cannot_ borrow the clothing of a God! It's blasphemous, you pagan!"

"Thank you, minion," Harry mused lightly, pointing towards a spot on the floor. Akin to a dog, Ron bounded down towards it, sniffing. Harry patted his head and fed him a treat.

"Whatever!" Ginny made to remove her robes. Hermione slammed the book shut and a plume of dust rose up from its pages. She flung herself up from the seat and rounded on Ginny furiously.

"Ginny!" She cried, outraged, her voice dropping to a low whisper, "You cannot perform your _duties_ here. You will find a new location for your…_performances_."

"Ummm…wahttt?" Ginny questioned, playing with her hair.

Hermione groaned, and pointed towards the exit, "Get out."

Harry let out a furious curse at that very instant. They all turned to look over at him sharply. He was glowering down at his laptop in a righteous fury.

"How _dare_ she defy me?" He demanded. "I am a GOD. I am Harry Fucking Potter. How _dare_ she?"

"She?" Hermione was instantly on the offensive, her eyes flashing somewhat. "What _she_?"

He ignored her completely. "Oh my … Hell I don't even!" he flung the laptop from him. Ron leapt forward to catch it even as Harry flung himself back onto the cushions. His glance snagged on Ron and the laptop in his arms. His glance turned icy.

"_Drop it_."

Ron did so without hesitation. There was a resounding crash as the laptop struck the floor. Harry closed his eyes, a fitful expression on his features.

"How _dare_ she. How dare she _not be online_. Everyone is online for _Harry Potter_."

"Who is 'she'?" Hermione pressed, narrowing her eyes slightly. Harry gave a heavy sigh.

"I hardly remember. She is mortal, of course, and therefore unimportant to me." He rolled over onto his side, shielding his face from the sun. "Play with my hair, Hermione."

He paused even as Hermione sat down closer to him and started to smooth out his hair. He cracked an eye open. "Minion."

Ron sat up on his knees from where he knelt at the feet of his master. The laptop lay in ruins about him. Harry flicked his hand about vaguely.

"_Reparo_ the laptop this instant. You are to look up the name _ottergirl_ for me and promptly-"

"Ottergirl?" Hermione repeated, pausing in the act of playing with Harry's hair. "Why are you instant messaging me?"

Harry ignored her, continuing on with his orders as Ron listened avidly. "And promptly delete her from my friends list. Then I want you to find out where she-" he broke off, looking up sharply to Hermione. "Wait that's you!" Suddenly he seemed inexplicably happy.

He pushed up from where he had been sprawled out on the seat, grinning over at her. "_You're ottergirl_!"

"Yes." Hermione started to reach for her book again, pleased that the threat of this other 'she' had been neutralized. Harry was still beaming.

"But I'm _Idol-Perfection-on-Earth_!"

Hermione shrugged, turning pages once again. "I know."

Harry's smile faltered somewhat. "What do you mean you _know_?" he flung himself up from the couch, his voice nearing the screech range. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW?"

"I know a lot of things, Harry." She paused in her quick scan of the page to look up at him. She smiled winningly.

Harry watched her, his expression whitening somewhat. Then he gave a breathy sigh and, without further warning, flicked his wrist to the side. He collapsed in a heap on the floor. It took Ginny several moments to realize he had full out fainted. Ron was moaning hysterically about "master being dead" and "no more chocolate".

At this point, the train had arrived at Hogwarts and most of its occupants were emptying from it. Ginny took Harry's nervous collapse as her cue to leave, though she was unsure where she'd even put her bags and why her butt was so sticky. She slid the door shut behind her, nonchalantly clasping her hands over the bright pink toffee on her robes, and started down the train.

She'd hardly taken a foot from the cabin before Malfoy materialized. He'd been leaving his own compartment and paused when he saw her, eyeing her lack of luggage and hands so not-at-all-inconspicously-clutching her rear.

"Seven," he drawled. He came to a pause beside her, raising his eyebrows. "Did you run out of money from your prostitution ring so that you can't even afford one … _bag_ of luggage?" He paused. "And must you clutch your ass so?"

"I can hold my ass – I can hold anyone's ass – whenever I bloody want to!" she retorted. Draco took a step away from her, wary of her given this new information. She eyed him. "Like I would want to grab your ass." She paused. "I do have standards."

"Whores don't have standards," he countered.

"You wish I was a whore!" she snapped.

There was a long silence. "You _are_ a whore."

"What? That is ridi – ridicu … _STUPID._No one even pays me!" She blinked, her mind blacking out ever so slightly. She never remembered words being this hard before. She swayed a little where she stood.

Draco was still talking opposite her. "Yet you still perform…" he trailed off meaningfully. She, still feeling dizzy, reached out unsteadily and grabbed at his arm. "Don't _touch_ me!" He pushed her away. "I do realize I am intoxicating but you are filth and unworthy of my presence." He took several steps away from her and then, with one last disgusted look, turned and exited the train.

Ginny, still clutching her rear and quite dizzy, with absolutely no books, clothes, or other supplies, stood in the abandoned hall wondering what on earth she was supposed to do next.


	2. Chapter One: The Date

**Chapter One: The Date**

Ginny slipped in through a side door, still clutching her blatantly pink rear. Her eyes frantically scanned the Great Hall for any sign of those nefarious gingers she called her brothers. Halfway through scanning the room her eyes stopped – not because she found them, but because she forgot what she was looking for. She needn't have bothered though, for the two in question soon appeared behind her, and she heard raucous laughter.

"Oh, George!" Fred exclaimed merrily, clutching at his sides as he doubled over, "this is better than we ever could have imagined – her ass is pink!"

"Ginny!" George called out to her, still chortling to his fellow, "Haven't you tried to clean it – you should _definitely _try scourgify-ing that. I mean – "

" – what could possibly happen to you? Nothing _mind altering_!" Fred finished.

"No, definitely not. Of _course not_. It wouldn't make you a blithering idiot, or anything," George looked innocently over at Fred, a devious smirk twisting its way across his face.

"I like…I totally did! And my head like hurts," Ginny flew a hand up to her chest, she paused taking a breath. She blinked. "And there was like a light! It was like…orange…green…RED!"

Fred was studiously staring at a piece of the wall as far from George as possibly could be. He was struggling not to laugh, but the corners of his mouth were already curving upward. George didn't try to contain his mirth; he was already doubled over with silent laughter.

"Hey!" Ginny screamed at them, drawing the attention from several passersby. "What's so funny?"

"You," George managed through silent gasps – his face was streaked with tears.

Ginny put her hands on her hips, forgetting to shield her unsightly rear from the stares of her fellow students. She narrowed her eyes. "Wait! Did you like…like _plan _this! How could you?"

She was greeted by the continued laughter of the twins. As she continued glaring at the two, a familiar sense of anger swept over her.

"This – is – _war,_" She growled through clenched teeth.

"Oh hell!" Fred exclaimed, "George – are you as scared as I am? We're being challenged by not only a whore, but a _mindless _one."

George clasped his hands upward, in mock fright, "And here I thought I was the only one! I peed myself."

"I am _soo _not mindless, you assholes." Ginny's face was heating up.

"Oh you aren't? Hmmm," Fred looked over towards George. "What do you think, George? Give it an hour?"

"A few minutes…seconds?" George looked down towards his watch, counted aloud to three and then snapped his fingers. "Now."

Ginny's mind wiped.

"Hey guys!" She exclaimed happily and then pranced off towards the Gryffindor table. She stopped abruptly.

Harry Potter was holding court.

"Now!" The boy imperiously shouted to his subjects, "Test it, Pet. Test it."

Harry was sprawled out across the Gryffindor bench, which was levitated a foot above the table. He was the only one on the left side of the table; no others were allowed that close to such a divine entity. He did however permit two of his subjects – Dean and Seamus to be exact – on either side of him, constantly fanning him from the heat of the Great Hall.

"Henchmen! Wave faster! The air clings to me with such ferocity! I can hardly breathe! Ohhh!" Harry mock fainted from lack of fresh air.

That's when Ginny noticed a bowed form lying before Harry. The bowed form was Neville. Neville was testing Harry's food for him.

Neville – the Pet, as Harry christened him – was forced to try every dish before Harry would deign to touch it. But Ginny did not remember any of this seeing as her ever fleeting memory had just been wiped. It was a surprise to anyone around her that she managed to remain upright for so long.

"What are you doing?" Ginny twirled her hair with one finger, her head cocked to the left. Her eyes had a glassy sheen.

Ron turned sharply from Colin Creevey, smacking him across the face with the plate of food he had just stolen from him. Neville, still testing from the line of plates Ron had brought to him choked on a bit of kipper. Harry cracked an eye open, still lounging on his self-proclaimed dais. Ginny noticed there were pillows on it. Hermione looked up from her book, a sympathetic expression on her face. She sighed and, concluding that this would take more than just a few moments, closed her book. Hermione leaned forward from where she had been permitted to sit beside Harry (she was the _only _one permitted to do so – the others were forcibly shoved by his lesser servants; the Hufflepuffs).

"Due to escalating violence and ever increasing tension between social ranks and their rising demagogues (who seem ever intent on furthering their own egocentric, dubious, and secular motives), Harry Potter," she gave Harry a worshiping glance, he smiled understandingly down at her and patted her hand. Hermione turned back to Ginny. "has concluded that it would be most prudent to attempt to divert and hinder their aforementioned ambitions by making use of otherwise shiftless beings for the greater good."

She broke off abruptly, apparently done, and eyed Ginny. It was then that she noticed the vacant eyes and the slightly gaping mouth. She let out an exasperated groan.

"Time to converse in brute terms," She muttered to herself, shooting Ginny a disdainful glare.

"Okay," She took a preparatory breath, "Because so many people are after Harry." She spoke much louder than was necessary. She gave Ginny an assessing glance to make sure that she still followed. "He's assigned these," She waved toward the students about them, "to test his food for him."

Harry groaned from his hovering litter – so he could look down on those across him better – and twisted about to give Ginny a condescending eye.

"_Hermione_," His tone was of exasperation, "She's far too _stupid_ to understand. I'll have to explain it _myself." _He dropped down to the pillows, rolling about with his eyes closed and a fevered hand over his forehead. It was several minutes before he finally managed to speak. "Voldemort is in love with me," He drawled and it was difficult to hear it above his twisting and turning on what was previously a simple bench. "Honestly why do you _think _he came to my house when I was naught but a _child_! What do you think _this_ is." Harry sighed and motioned towards one of his henchmen. Seamus leaned forward, pushing aside Harry's bangs.

Ginny squinted towards his forehead, and saw a tiny lightning-like scratch there. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry was talking already.

"I _know_. Try _living _with this," He paused for effect. "I _suppose_ I'm slightly touched that you're barely containing yourself from this treachery. But _restrain _yourself. I understand, I _know_ you have the burning desire to rip this monster limb from limb for _this_," Seamus pointed towards the scar, not needing a cue. Harry continued, "_heinous _crime. He dared touch this godly skin in his mad craze to have me. But –"

Harry cut off abruptly, turning towards Dumbledore. Apparently the old headmaster was giving his customary speech to the great hall at large.

"Shut up!" Harry turned about on his side, propping himself up delicately with a single elbow. He glared mutinously over at Dumbledore.

"Do you mind, you ancient bag of worthless mortal bones? Do you not know the presence of divinity when you see it? Or are you simply blinded by my aura?"

There was a long silence in the Hall, and Dumbledore, abashed, stepped from his podium. He shuffled back towards his seat in silence, all the while not daring to turn his back on Harry. He bowed slightly before sitting.

"You're lucky I didn't strike you down where you stood! Do you not understand," Harry rolled over precariously towards the edge. Then he fell. The next scene was a blur before Ginny's dazed eyes.

Instantaneously mobs were rushing towards Harry, eager to clutch at any part of him that they could. Dean and Seamus beat back those closest to him, and Ron, leaping up on the table charged forward, sending plates flying in all directions.

Hermione screamed theatrically as the end seemed to come near: Harry had practically reached the floor.

Then Ron dove forward, flying from the table and beneath the hovering bench and caught Harry, crashing onto the floor a moment later. He somehow managed to get up without any aid and place Harry back on the bench.

"…how _powerful _I am? It wouldn't have taken a flick of the fingers. Just a glance – a _single glance _and you would be dust on the floor beneath my feet." Dean pointed for him, as Harry continued on as if nothing had happened.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to apologize, but Harry shushed him with a wave of his pinky finger.

"Don't even." Harry sighed loudly and turned back towards his inner circle. He glanced towards Ginny for a moment, gagged, and returned his gaze to Hermione.

"What was your name again?" It was not directed at Hermione.

Several moments of silence passed. Ginny wondered what they were all waiting for. Then Hermione shot her a frigid glance. Ginny stammered.

"I…I umm…"

"It's understandable. Everyone is at a loss for words in my presence. I don't even care." There was a pause. Harry turned swiftly towards one of his henchmen, "Did you fix my bangs." It was not a question – nothing was a question when it came from Harry.

Dean reddened, and was frozen in fear for several moments. It was Seamus that, sensing his friend was incapable of moving in his fright, rushed forward to return Harry's hair to its original state.

"Buffoon. Worthless buffoon."

Harry turned back to Hermione, continuing to look at Ginny through her. Evidently Ginny herself was not worthy of his gaze.

"Voldemort is trying to slip me a love potion because he desires me so. Honestly…who doesn't? I mean," He motioned towards himself, "_Look _at me. No. Don't. You already had your thirty seconds of heaven."

Harry snapped his fingers and then suddenly Ron appeared with a blindfold. He promptly wrapped it around Ginny's eyes.

"I have returned you back to the world you saw before me: Hell."

Apparently he was done explaining, for she felt rough hands pushing her, quite violently, from the room. The blindfold was not removed even though it was quite clear she was nowhere near him. She stumbled around until Colin found her and rescued her from her senseless state, and led her back to the Common Room.

_2880 minutes and five seconds later…_

"You told her?" George asked, somewhat breathless, of a boy appearing to be Colin. The boy nodded conspiratorially, a smirk starting on his features.

"If she wants a war … she'll get one."

"Good. I already got it in her drink. How'd it go with Draco?"

George sighed, his smile lessening somewhat.

"Don't tell me you didn't manage!"

George cracked a grin, "Of course I did! I could have slipped in dung and he wouldn't have noticed a thing!"

"Good – I told her to meet me at ten in the potions room." The boy who appeared to be Colin informed him, just as he started changing before George's very eyes. His face stretched and squirmed, itching to return to its natural state. His form grew taller by at least a foot, and his mousy brown hair faded into a bright orange. Fred had returned to an exact replica of George, a devilish grin plastered across his face.

"What about Snape?" George questioned, unaffected by his twin's unnatural transformation: Polyjuice potions were used regularly among the two.

"Hmm, well actually I may have forgotten about him," Fred answered, raising an eyebrow. The pair burst out laughing at this absurdity. Sobering up, Fred continued. "I gave him a few drops of this." Fred withdrew a near empty bottle from his robes. George instantly snatched the bottle, and brought it to his nose: sniffing.

"Moon powder…kraken pus…mer-scales…" The red-head murmured a long string of ingredients, and his face became calculating. Then it broke out into an all out grin. He clapped Fred on the shoulder in appreciation.

"Ohh, Snapey – tsk tsk! I hope you brought good reading material, because you won't be off the can for exactly seven hours."

"Exactly." George returned his brother's wicked grin. "Draco – or should I say Colin Creevy? – and dear Ginny (a.k.a. Pansy Parkison) are about to have a _wonderful _date."

"Wonderful for who?"

"Hmmm…" George appeared to actually be considering this, "us?"

The two twins took about ten minutes to laugh maniacally in expectation, before they headed down to the Great Hall, bearing with them a pair of binoculars. They had enchanted them to be able to see through any object in their way.

Down in the dungeons, Ginny was pacing outside the potions' room door. She seemed to be having an external conflict with herself. It was 10:42.

"You have to go in!" Ginny moved towards the door confidently, and then stopped abruptly. She slapped herself.

"Like no! I am _soo_ not going through this…this CREEPY door! No! !" She started backing away again, and then resumed her pacing.

"You are _such _an…idi…idio…idiosyncrasy! I'm _supposed _to go in there!"

"But like…_why? _Ughh.." Ginny fluttered her eyes in exasperation with herself.

"Uh. Like…" Ginny rolled her eyes upward, trying to regain her thought process. Several painstaking minutes later and she received a single word for all her efforts, "Colin!"

"Who the hell is Colin?"

Another long pause. Ginny didn't answer herself but, rather, grabbed her hand and rushed towards the door…slamming right into it with a loud _thud_. She groaned, and slid to the floor in a tangled mess, swearing at herself all the while.

In another moment the door had opened, and Draco, who looked to her like Colin – not that it would have mattered, due to this new state of declining intelligence: she hardly remembered who _she _was.

"Ughh – fuck, Parkinson." Draco leaned up against the wall, refusing to offer her a hand, "Get up, you are _so_ pathetic. And practically an hour late. It's not like I'm you; I actually have things to do with my life," Draco paused thoughtfully, "You know _other _than stalking people."

"Who's Parkinson?" Ginny asked dumbly up from the place she had fallen on the floor. She had yet to remember how to command her body to get up.

"Oh _honestly_. How is anyone with such remedial intellect even allowed into a school…? Go back to your petting zoo or wherever," Draco flicked his fingers down at her, then rolled his eyes and looked away from her. His eyes couldn't stand the sight of her anymore. "It's no wonder you have delusions of me actually finding you less than repulsive. Your mind can't even perform basic functions –" Draco stopped, realizing she hadn't moved. "If you think I'll let your filth touch my hand then your mind is in an even worse state than I'd imagined. The hand of me, of _Draco Malfoy_, is not about to help you up."

At this Ginny did respond, even if it was only to blink. She managed to push herself from the stone floor and glare scrutinizingly up at him. Recognition dawned on her face, and she threw her arms around him.

"Colin!" She cried happily: Colin was the only one who ever tried to explain things to her, and didn't treat her like a dumb whore. Then she remembered that she didn't _truly _like Colin – what with him being unattractive, awkward and boring. She was about to release her hold on him, when Draco viciously pushed her down and shrieked in a tone one might describe as feminine. He retreated into the potions room. He was in the act of slamming the door shut, when she slid over the threshold. The door slammed behind her.

Seeing that he had not escaped, Draco screamed. He retreated into the darker confines of the room, searching for a place of refuge.

But this wasn't right. _She _was the one who hid from Colin. Not the other way around.

"Colin!" She screamed angrily in frustration, stamping her foot. There was no answer. She whirled around, peering through the murky shadows. "Colin! Get your ass over here! How _dare _you treat me like this – I deserve way better. You're lucky to be dating me! Hell – you're lucky to be dating anyone, you mousy little stalker! You haven't even hit puberty yet!" She paused, looking for any sign of her 'Colin'. "Colin!"

"Damnit, Parkinson! That's not even my name! What the fuck is wrong with your mind? Screw that, what's wrong with _you_?" He stopped for a moment, realizing his voice had given him away. He made to throw one of the potion shelves down as a distraction, but it was too late – Ginny had found him.

Draco started backing away from her slowly, "No! Stay there! Don't come another inch towards me or I'll have you deported!" He stumbled backward, tripping slightly over a cauldron. It skittered over the floor. He continued lurching backward at a maddened pace.

"You know what? This has already come too far – I came here tonight to end this twisted fantasy of yours once and for all." Draco tried to take another step back only to find that he was already pressed against the wall. He looked over to 'Pansy' with growing dread.

"What?" Ginny shrieked.

Draco seemed to regain his resolve. He took a confident step forward. "Yes. I'm here because you're a nagging, sniveling hag who reckons she has a shot with me because I _happened _to glance in your corner _once. _Once, damn you. I shudder to imagine what might have happened if I had looked at you twice." He paused as if considering this, a shudder convulsed through his frame.

"Excuse me?" Ginny had gained an icy tone to her edge at this. "You have looked at me _plenty _more than twice."

"Hell no!" Draco seemed livid at this possibility, "my eyes would be _blind_. No…no," He started shuddering, covering his eyes, "God no. Just…just." He gagged in revulsion.

There was a pause and another blank look crossed Ginny's features. She looked about her curiously, trying to find where she was. Her eyes snagged on Draco – to her appearing as Colin – and she squealed in delight, throwing her arms about his neck as she kissed him.

Before she knew what was happening Draco had grabbed hold of her arms, swearing incoherently, and thrown her backward. She landed in a steaming cauldron.

"You bloody –" Draco stopped and filled in several choice swear words, scrubbing at his mouth as he did so. Several long moments passed before Ginny noticed her robes started to smoke and she realized she was still in the cauldron. She made to remove herself but Draco gave an ungodly swear and lurched forward. He kicked her and she fell backward, holding her stomach. He darted around Snape's table, using it as a barrier between himself and her.

"No! You stay there you crazy-" He broke off, a stream of imprecations filling the room. Ginny, scared to move and disbelieving of what was happening, didn't move from where she had fallen next to the cauldron.

"This!" Draco motioned with a wide gesture between himself and her. "This is over. This never _was_."

There was a moment of silence. Ginny stared at him with wide eyes, comprehension slowly dawning on her features. "Are you … you're not like… breaking up with me?"

Draco let out a roar of frustration, pounding on the table somewhat. "_We were never even dating, you psycho bitch!_"

Ginny stared at him a moment. Then she started screaming, a fanatical rage sweeping through her. A stream of incomprehensible words tore free of her even as she lurched to her feet and started toward him. Draco swore and tried to run around the other side of the table, reaching for his wand, but Ginny (who he still saw as Pansy) was already too close.

"Oh hell no, _I_ am not the psycho bitch here! That is all – bloody – you!" At this point she caught hold of Draco's arm and spun him back toward her before he could rip out his wand. "I _saw_ you taking pictures of me in the Burrow and I _saw_ you behind the curtain of my shower and I bloody _saw_ you when I was trying on robes at Gladrags!"

She paused at this point in her tirade. Draco, who had looked terrified a moment before, had opened his mouth to demand an explanation regarding her mention of the Burrow, but then she'd slapped him across the face, a triumphant glint in her usually vacant eyes. "You _so_ did not stay in the designated waiting area!" she added this in an exultant hiss. She glared into 'Colin's' eyes. Draco was staring at her incredulously, clutching his cheek.

"Bloody. Hell. Parksinson!"

Ginny stared at him a moment, the fervor vanishing from her eyes. Then she broke down, a choked sob breaking free of her as her knees gave out and she collapsed in a wailing pile on the floor.

"Finally you're getting the idea."

"Idea?" Ginny managed through sobs.

"Yes – whatever it was that you deluded yourself into thinking we had. It's over."

Ginny continued to cry at his words and it took a while for her to manage words again, "I can't believe…that you're," another sob wracked through her, "you just _can't _be breaking up with me!"

"I was never your boyfriend!" Draco cried harshly, beyond exasperated.

"_You _asked _me_ out!" Ginny wailed.

Draco laughed somewhat at this. "Yes, Parkinson. And in what world was this?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed into malicious slits. She raised an eyebrow at him before launching into her tirade. "Oh _I don't know_ – in the Gryffindor common room when all the prefects had gone up to bed, on the fifth floor when Filch was chasing Mrs. Norris, on the Astronomy Tower, in my parent's bedroom, out by the lake when we snuck out after curfew," She paused for effect before her voice grew into a menacing whisper, "_In. Hagrid's. Hut_."

Draco's eyes bulged, and without a moment's hesitation, he slapped her soundly across the face. "You dirty, lying, whore!"

Fred and George put the enchanted binoculars down for a moment to high five each other. "He's not so far off!" George managed between laughing fits. The two moved to look through their binoculars, but at that precise moment Professor McGonagall entered the hall. She slowly walked over to the twins.

"Fred – George, what do you think you're doing?" Her eyes narrowed and moved between the two. The pair could have sworn they saw her nostrils flare.

"Er…"George began.

"Nothing!" Fred cut in as he grabbed the binoculars and hid them behind his back, "We were just…"

"Studying," George concluded.

"Studying what?" Professor McGonagall demanded, glancing at the lack of books in the abandoned hall about them. She raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

"Nothing," Fred replied. George interrupted him.

"Nothing in particular, he means."

"Right," Fred grinned, "We were studying _lots_ of things at the same time!"

There was a lengthy pause.

"I see. And this studying…when were you going to start?"

"Start? Oh, but we have, Professor!"

"Without any books? No scrolls? No resources whatsoever?"

The two were left speechless – her nostrils had most definitely flared this time. Fred almost mentioned to his brother how he thought he'd seen smoke.

"Right – that's what I thought. Follow me."

The two shared a commiserating glance before McGonagall broke into a maddened gait, as if she were being propelled forward by the wings of some fiery creature.

"Office." Fred mouthed to George. They both winced, wondering how long they would survive interrogation in the dragon's lair.

_In the potions room…_

Ginny now looked like Ginny to Draco and Draco now looked like Draco to Ginny. They had both spent the last two minutes screaming (in Ginny's case) and cursing (in Draco's case). Ginny had fallen back to the floor, grabbing at her hair and screaming like a banshee. Draco was pounding on the wall with his fist, cursing incoherently. Another three minutes passed. Then,

"Where the hell is Parkinson?" Draco shouted, finally pausing to formulate a proper sentence.

"I don't bloody _know_! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" Ginny shrieked, stamping her foot and glaring up at him. She hesitated for a moment, frowning and grabbed Draco's leg, "Where's Colin?"

Draco kicked her away roughly, glowering down toward her. "Don't touch my pants, you filthy whore!" Draco paused, as if realizing she'd asked him something, "As if I don't have better things to do with my life than keep track of your rodent friends, _Seven_. I came down here to break up with Pansy!" He stopped to correct himself. "She's not even my girlfriend!" He let out another murderous stream of curses.

Ginny pushed herself up from the floor, fingering her side which had been kicked no less than three times that day. It would most definitely bruise.

Draco frowned, as if seeing her for the first time. "How did you even get off the train?"

Ginny ignored him. In a pose most similar to her mother's, she struck out with her pointed finger again, jabbing him repeatedly in the chest all over again. "That … is … a … lie!" Each word was punctuated by another jab.

Draco stopped, looking at her as if she had six heads. "What the bloody hell does that have to with anything?" But Ginny mind was lost on her tirade…or just lost in general.

"_I_ came down here for a date with Colin! _You were trying to ruin my date_!"

"Please, I have a _life_," Draco retorted coldly. "You're perfectly capable of ruining any date yourself." He stopped, scanning her reddened eyes and tangled hair. "Just look at you."

Ginny chortled a little at this and mentioned something about how attractive she was. "I'm _so _pretty that people like _Pansy Parkinson _know that they don't have a chance with me – they don't even _bother _to stalk me. Because they know it won't work!"

"You don't have a stalker because you're a disgusting slut," Draco spat back, giving her a vicious glance as he eyed her form disdainfully once more.

Ginny was about to vent her spleen when she regained a spark of her former intelligence. "Fred and George!"

Draco had turned from her, clutching his forehead in his hands, and spat back at her bitterly. "Shut up, Seven. I'm trying to think! Not that you know what that is."

"You shut up! Fred and George did this!" She turned from him in her fury, crossing her arms over her chest and starting to pace. "They made you think I was Pansy, and made me think you were Colin!"

"Wait, wait, wait," he paused, eyeing her incredulously. "You thought _I_ was Colin…?"

She ignored him, elation was already marking her features. She clapped her hands together. "Which means Colin didn't dump me!"

Draco raised his eyebrows, sarcasm lighting his features. "Oh joy."

Her face fell. "Now _I_ have to break up with him."

Draco sighed patiently. "Then why were you crying?"

She gave him a look. "_No one_ breaks up with me. But Fred and George are so going to get it!" She was pacing again, her voice an angry growl. "I told them this was war – I remember now! I'm going to kill them." She turned toward the door, but Draco abruptly took a step sideways, blocking her path. She stopped, looking up at him sharply.

"Get outta my way!" Realizing that he blocked the door, she subconsciously started twirling her hair again. This was what she did when in the same position for more than ten seconds.

When Draco didn't move a sudden compulsion seemed to grip her; she charged him. He hadn't even opened his mouth to retort before she pushed him violently away. Momentarily taken off balance, he staggered somewhat and she sped past him. Then he caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

"You. You have _horrible _hair and freckles…and just – something," he sniffed the air about her disdainfully, "…something about you reeks."

She made to hit him but he pushed her back, away from the door, and blocked her way once more. "I suggest you do something in an attempt to mend those…_errors_."

"Oh HELL no!" she spat. "I'm _gorgeous_."

"According to who?"

"Everyone. But specifically Colin, Dean, Neville, Blaise, and _all_ the guys in this school!" She paused, eyeing him appraisingly. "The _straight_ ones anyway."

"Wait, what the hell do you mean _Blaise_?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh he's not the only Slytherin – just the only one whose name I remember."

"Slut," he muttered it under his breath, half coughing. She looked back at him.

"What was that?"

He said nothing, merely raised his eyebrows meaningfully. She gave him a dismissive glance and turned away. "Don't care. I've got to kill them!"

"No, you do _not_," he cut in, sounding angry. She took a step back, somewhat speechless at this. Draco was hardly the one you'd expect to defend Fred and George. Her fears were short lived though, for he elaborated after a pause. "_I_ am going to kill Fred and George. Not you. You are a _girl_after all."

She stared at him, still taken aback at his previous words. "_And_?" She paused. "And they're my brothers!"

"But _I_ was the one they set up," he drawled.

"I was set up too!"

"No," Draco laughed a little, ducking his head as he smiled to himself at this absurdity. "No, you were merely part of the plan." He looked back over at her, his expression darkening. "This is all one elaborate scheme to ruin my life." He paused, "I will kill the offenders."

"That is rid…ridic…SUPID!" she shrieked, stamping her foot again, oblivious to how juvenile it made her appear, "I mean STUPID!" Draco gave her a look which she promptly ignored. "They're after me! Ever since I…well…I don't really…" Ginny scratched her head, then stopped. She resumed twirling her hair as she looked up at Draco.

"Please," Draco looked away from her, sounding amused. "Having a date with Draco Malfoy can only improve your standing at Hogwarts. But me? Being seen with…" he seemed unable to finish the sentence as he looked toward her again. He gagged slightly in repulsion.

Ginny ground her teeth together. You could call her stupid. You could call her every synonym there was in the dictionary for whore. But call her _ugly _and you had another thing coming. "You. Bloody. Prat!" She smacked him violently on the shoulder. He straightened, looking affronted, but she'd already taken a step back from him, glaring fiercely. Then she slapped him again across the face. "You're gay. You've got to be gay, damnit!"

Draco snorted somewhat at this before resuming his glare down at her. She regained her previous train of thought after reassuring herself of her true beauty.

"They're after me! They've already plastered my arse with toffee!"

Draco gave her another look. "Pardon? Is that the reason as to why you were clutching your arse with such a passion?"

She hesitated, looking a bit embarrassed. "They made some like weird toffee thing and it…" She sighed, "it like won't come off my robes." She looked away. Draco raised his eyebrows, appearing unconvinced. She rounded on him without hesitation. "Oh come off it! It's me they want revenge on, not you!"

After a moment Draco turned away. "All I wanted to do was break up with Pansy."

"Just move already!" Ginny demanded, "I have to kill them."

He didn't move. "No. That right is mine. This," he gave her a frigid glance, "will not go unpunished." He was furious again, a cold glint in his eyes. "You realize I've got to break up with Parkinson all over again, now!"

Ginny saw he was not going to relent. She sighed. "Why don't we …" she hesitated, then motioned between the two of them, as if this were sign enough of what she was trying to imply. Draco's expression was steadily declining.

"…work _together_?" he concluded for her, his voice low.

She grinned, nodding rapidly. "Yah!"

Draco snorted, looking away. "Please. I don't work with Weasleys. Let alone the whore type." He shook his head and shoulders, as if ridding himself of some unpleasant clinging thing.

"Who calls me a whore?" she shrieked.

"Everyone. But specifically Colin, Dean, Neville, Blaise, and _all_ the guys in this school," He repeated back to her, "_especially_the straight ones."

She stared at him, at a loss for words. He leaned back against the door, looking smug, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm surprised you can connect one thought to the other," he announced loftily, still watching her even as he checked his nails.

"Well who else knows my brothers better than me?" she demanded, returning to their original conversation.

He glanced at her. "You're not even going to … _try_ defending your intelligence?"

She crossed her arms, setting her jaw. "I know everything about my brothers. If you want revenge, I'm your girl."

"And currently," he observed his fingers again, "who else's girl are you?" He snickered a little to himself, pleased at his witticisms. It grew into a chortle. He leaned forward, his sides shaking, and the laughter grew louder. She said nothing and a few moments passed. She raised her eyebrows. At length the laughter trailed into small gasps for air.

"Are you finished now?" she asked.

Draco straightened, taking a breath and smoothing his robes. "That depends. Are you?" he glanced toward her. She made a cursing noise and looked away.

"Never in my life have I had more than one boyfriend at one time!" she snapped, looking back toward him.

"What about girlfriends?"

She gave him a withering glance. "No."

He made a face and looked away. There was another pause. Finally he looked back toward her, serious at last. "Fine. You may assist me in killing Weasleys Four and Five."

"Good." She paused, her expression twisting. She looked back over at him. "You call us by _numbers_!"

He didn't seem to realize what it was that had her on edge. "Doesn't everyone?"

"No!" was all she could manage.

If possible he looked even more confused at this news. "You're kidding. You mean… they call you by your names?" Now he looked affronted. "But how the devil would they remember? How the hell do you distinguish one ginger from another? This is absurd!" He seemed to be growing angrier by the minute. "Who does it? Tell me! I'm going to set Crabbe and Goyle on them! This must end!"

For a moment Ginny didn't answer, she seemed at loss for words. "Are you mental?" He scowled, but she ignored it. "Everyone calls us by our names! Every single person in the whole of Britland calls us by our names! How would you feel if I call you … One?" she broke off, realizing he was an only child and that the analogy didn't quite have the same effect.

"_The_one?" he asked, watching her.

"The one for what?"

"The one for you," he retorted with a smirk.

"Oh yes. Such a funny ferret. Shall I name you?" She took a step toward him. He turned slightly ashen and slid to the right somewhat, though he still blocked the door.

"Fine. You think you have names. I suppose you also don't see your uncanny resemblance to rodents, either. Moving on." He donned a condescending expression, rolling his eyes slightly. "I have a job for you – you're probably accustomed to this type anyway…" He trailed off meaningfully.

"_Excuse_me? If you think that I'll give you a –"

"Woah, woah. Try to keep it rated G here, will you? Not all of us live with our minds in the gutter. Bloody skank. This is a…a less _filthy_job for you. Though I'd find it equally satisfying." He smirked at this.

"I'm not doing any _jobs_ for you!" Ginny retorted.

"It isn't the right sort of _job_for you then? You're not interested?"

"Bloody…I'_m not doing any jobs for you,_of any sort!"

Again, Draco seemed surprised. "Is this…" he seemed to be scanning the room, as if he were looking for someone, "this isn't real. You're a…Weasley. It's practically inherent that you jump on any task you're offered. You frolic in menial work. You-"

"Like, so you'd pay me for it?" Ginny abruptly asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. She _did_ need to buy a new robe. She started to reach for the toffee stained robe, about to take it off, but Draco's voice distracted her and she forgot.

"Are you _used_to being paid for your…._services_ then?" He questioned, smirking to himself.

"I need _clothes_!" she whined, stomping her foot.

Draco broke off, eyeing her a moment. Then he recovered. "Well that's more like it. And yes, you would be paid." He drew himself up haughtily. "Malfoys are never in debt to anyone."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever, just tell me what it is."

"You're to write a letter." He paused. "To Parkinson. You're breaking up with her for me. I refuse to deal with her. To converse with such trash"

"What? No! No, I am not breaking up with your girlfriend for you! Do it yourself!"

Draco wasn't listening, he'd already narrowed his eyes at the word 'girlfriend'. "She is not my girlfriend."

"Then why were you trying to break up with me when I looked like her?" She paused, adding snidely. "And you did a really bad job of it, by the way."

"Firstly, Pansy _thinks_ she's dating me, she never actually has been. I have standards. And secondly, I know I didn't do a bad job of it because you were wailing like a baby when I told you." He leaned back, looking smug. "I'd say that's a good job."

Ginny crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I was not wailing."

"You're right. Too gentile. You sounded far too much like a walrus. Or a dying seal. Shall we say blubbering, then?" Her hand swung out sharply toward his face, but he blocked her neatly, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "But it hardly matters. Are you going to write the letter or not?"

Ginny watched him frostily. "No."

He sighed heavily. "Oh come on, Weasley seve-" he caught himself on the word, but her expression had already turned icier, if it were possible. He took a step nearer her. "Gin-" he made a disgusted face. He recovered and tried again. "_Ginev…_" he grimaced. "_Ginn-_"

"Ginny."

"That." He moved on hastily. "You're a girl. You know exactly what you don't want to hear when your boyfriend breaks up with you. But beyond this, you're a Weasley and a whore, which means you have even more experience with break ups-" at her expression he caught himself again.

He paused again, as if struggling with himself. He made to hold her shoulders, then stopped, his hands hovering somewhere above her shoulder bones. She eyed his hands, raising her eyebrows, and then looked back up at him. He looked repulsed and then, slowly, dropped his hands onto her shoulders. Ginny shrieked the moment his hands touched the Gryffindor cloth and Draco, making gagging sounds, abruptly spun away.

"Hell I can't do it!" He hacked loudly, doubling over. "That was horrible! What the hell!" What the- I'm contaminated! This-th-!" he appeared to be having trouble breathing. Gagging sounds echoed from his portion of the room again.

Across from him, Ginny had turned her back on him, screaming incoherently, and was scrubbing at her shoulders roughly, looking horrified. "What was that? What the bloody hell was that, Malfoy?"

He ignored her, lost in his own worries, mumbling slightly to himself. Then there was an outraged scream as realization dawned on him.

"WHAT IF I GET AN STD?"

"Idiot!" she snapped, "How inexperienced _are_you! They can't be transmitted by you _touching_my robes. It takes a little more than that," She looked up at him suggestively.

"So you _have_ them?" he shot back, raising his eyebrows. "You're one hundred-percent positive? There's no doubt?"

"Oh please," she eyed him again. "It would be more than worth it."

He swore again and turned away, revulsion gripping him. Violent hacking sounded again. Some moments later, Draco at length staggered toward the wall, leaning his hands on it for support.

"Bloody devil just write the damn letter!" he choked, sounding horrified. He turned his head slightly to look back in her direction. "No one likes Pansy; she's a slug. You can have fun with it!"

Ginny turned, still holding her shoulders protectively. She'd most likely have to burn the robe. It was already ruined with toffee and now Malfoy had … She shuddered. With _other_guys this would never be a problem. But he wasn't….what she meant to say was…_he wasn't human._And there would have to be rules. No physical proximity. There had to be rules if this revenge plot was going to work.

"Fine." She took a breath, finally lowering her hands from her shoulders. "But you'll owe me."

He straightened, pushing off the wall and looking back over at her. He seemed grayer than usual. She glowered. "Oh come on, I'm not that repulsive."

He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and then closed it. There was a moment or two of silence. He cleared his throat. "So we have an accord then?"

Ginny gave him a look. "Who says that?"

"What?"

"Accord. Who the devil says 'accord' anymore?"

He laughed a little, amused. "Anyone with half an education and the smallest measure of class." He paused. "Not that a strumpet could be expected to have either of those."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, said nothing, and then pushed past him toward the door.

_Fred and George's Room…_

"Damn!" George had taken the stairs three at a time, leapt over two beds and a sleeping roommate, tripped on some chocolate frogs and flung Fred out of the way only to find that the potions room was empty. He threw the binoculars down angrily. He glanced toward Fred, who was pushing up from where he'd fallen.

"We missed the rest of the date." He looked crestfallen.

"Let me see!" Fred grabbed at the binoculars. Sure enough, the dungeon room was empty. But wait. His grip on the binoculars tightened. It couldn't be.

No.

"Uh…George," Fred didn't lower the binoculars. "George, I think we have a problem."

Geroge looked over at him. "What?"

Fred wordlessly handed him the binoculars. George took them swiftly, leaning forward and peering through them. It was a moment before he saw what Fred had. Draco and Ginny. They weren't fighting. They were walking. Together. Well, sort of. But far closer than any self-respecting Weasley would ever allow. Far closer than the _by-laws_ would allow. George dropped the binoculars a moment.

"_They're talking!_" He sounded outraged. He wrenched the binoculars back up to his eyes. "_She's hitting on him_!" He paused, a brief smirk starting on his features. "And being rejected."

"Bloody whore can't help herself now that her brain's deteriorating," Fred mused. "She probably doesn't even realize what she's doing. Here, let me see!"

"Too late," George lowered the binoculars. He looked back to Fred. "She's going back to the dormitories now. Malfoy's already left." He stopped, frowning a little. "You don't think they figured out it was us? She's not even got half a troll's intelligence!"

Fred looked somber, contemplating this newest turn of events. "No. No, we were far too surreptitious. Too ninja-esque."

George grinned. "We _were_ ninjas."

Fred's smile faded. "But still… this is unforgivable." He looked back to George. "It was just a bit of a prank. They were supposed to scream and cry and swear and slap and kick each other." He wrenched up the binoculars again, scanning the empty potions' room. "_Damnit_!"

George looked over at him. "She's broken the Weasley-by-laws, my brother. This cannot go unpunished. Now they have been marked. Now they must suffer for this iniquity." He paused, thinking on it. "And I think I know where to start."

"Malfoy. He has to be taken down first," Fred offered. "Malfoy's the mastermind. Ginny's just too stupid. I'm surprised she remembers how to put clothes on."

George chortled. "Good, yes. Malfoy first. I think I have an idea. But it will involve lots of… there will be losses on our side."

Fred didn't lower the binoculars. "Ron will understand. It must be done. For the sake of the by-laws." His binoculars abruptly stopped their scanning of the school, doubling back somewhat on a particular spot. A crooked grin started on Fred's face. "George…?"

George started toward him. "What is it?"

Fred started to laugh. "Remember Snape?"

George's face was blank a moment. Then he started to laugh. "You're not watching him now, are you?"

Fred could hardly speak for his laughter. "No, not at all." He turned knowingly to George. "You know what this means."


	3. Chapter Two: Coming To an Understanding

**Chapter Two: Coming to an Understanding**

On Sunday morning, Ginny woke up to find a mountain of green packages rising up all about her bed. The other girls were all sleeping around her, but Ginny couldn't tell. She could hardly see over the foot of her bed. She clambered up unsteadily, pushing the covers away and crawling over to one of the nearest packages. A letter was balanced precariously on its top.

She paused, scanning it and narrowing her eyes. Her name had been printed in neat cursive across the silver envelope. In green ink. Only one person would dare use those colors when addressing a Weasley. Only one person would have the gall to deliver such an ostentatious mound of silver and green in the girls' dormitories of the Gryffindor Tower. Unsure of what to expect, she picked the letter up gingerly and leaned back cross-legged on the foot of her red-gold bed. She turned it over and was unsurprised to find the Malfoy seal pressed into the green wax.

_Seven:_

_This more than pays the debt. In fact, I rather think it makes you in my debt. But that wouldn't be the first time you were in someone's debt, now would it?_

_No wait. That's how your little __business__ got started, isn't it? _

_Draconis Malfoy_

"The nerve of that bloody prat!" She reddened when one of the girls sleeping in the bed opposite her snorted, turning over in her sleep. She waited a few moments and then shredded the letter. Being in debt to Malfoy. As if. Maybe she had enjoyed writing the letter to Pansy. Maybe it had given her the smallest ounce of pleasure to call her a wart-faced hag struggling with a drug habit (she was unsure of what it meant, but she'd heard Hermione denouncing drugs most vehemently). But that was irrelevant. She'd done her share of the bargain and it was Malfoy's turn to deliver on his. She reached for the nearest of the packages. She ripped it open.

Clothing. Not even chocolate. She had no use for clothing. All she'd wanted was a bloody robe. All she'd wanted was money. How hard was it to give her money? He was frighteningly rich! He was just being stingy. That was it. He was just lording his wealth over her by buying her innumerable mounds of clothes that probably didn't even fit. She scanned the shirt bitterly, her expression softening somewhat. It was pretty. It was green, but it was pretty. She held it up against herself. At first she was elated to see that it fit. Then she was angry. It was uncanny, how well it fit. He'd been snooping. Somehow he'd found out her clothing size!

She grabbed at the next package, tearing it open. A dress. Green as well. She snorted and then held it up. Another perfect fit. She reached for another. Another dress, but blue which was a shock. She moved through the packages resolutely, soon finding herself enveloped by a veritable mountain of clothing, of which every single piece fit her perfectly. It took her some minutes to successfully stuff the clothes under her bed and into her suitcase. Then she grabbed at a parchment and quill and scrawled across it swiftly,

_Ferret:_

_Don't think I didn't notice that you called me __Seven__ and that all these clothes are two days late. That means you owe interest for that letter I wrote and that you're in debt to me. _

_Furthermore, __I have never been in debt to anyone. You, of all people should know that my business pays well. You bloody prat._

_And I'd also like to know how you knew my size. __Not even my mum knows my size, she never buys me clothing!_

_Weasley_

She hesitated, eyeing the letter. She hoped he wouldn't take the second paragraph seriously. She didn't actually have one, she was just playing along. She frowned, eyeing the letter again, and then crossed out the last line. She sealed it with red sealing wax and held it out for her roommate's owl to fly out. She sat on her bed for a few minutes. Then, after some deliberation, changed into the blue dress he'd bought her. She looked at her reflection, found that she loved the dress and smiled. Then she hated herself for it because it was of Malfoy's doing and was about to take the dress off and get back into her dirty robes when the borrowed owl made tapping noises at the window. She snatched the owl up and wrenched the letter from its beak. She tore it open, scanning the lines.

_Seven:_

_Clearly I addressed you as such because it is both a simple and concise means of identifying you. After all, it is much shorter than writing out whatever God-forsaken name you've deluded yourself into thinking you own._

_Draconis Malfoy_

_P.S. Nothing was mentioned of interest and no rates were agreed upon. Therefore you can claim nothing and are still indebted to me. But I won't expect your usual __duties __as payment._

She could hardly refrain from stabbing her quill through the parchment as she penned her answer.

_Dimwitted Mouse:_

_I don't owe you a thing and you still haven't answered how you know my clothing size. And I distinctly remember mentioning interest on the payment. I would also never __dream __of performing any services for you. Even if you begged – you're far too unimaginative. Is a number really the best the __Great __Draconis Malfoy can conjure?_

_Ginevra Weasley_

She paced the room as she waited, throwing bits of wrapping paper into the fire and watching them burn with some small measure of amusement. About ten minutes later, Draco responded.

_My Dear Whore:_

_I don't owe you. I bought out the entire store. Clearly it was a waste though, since the best insult you could think of was 'dimwitted mouse' and you would have been incapable of even counting money or worth, etc. _

_Furthermore, don't think I haven't noticed this isn't even your owl that you're using._

_P.S. Is __this __name up to your current standards? Not that you should have any, you know. Whores can't be overly picky – take what business you can, and whatnot._

_Draconis Malfoy_

Ginny gasped a little at the first line, but then recovered at the insult and promptly threw the letter into the fire. She watched it burn avidly, and then reached for another parchment. She wrote swiftly.

_Oh Egotistical Prat Who I Saved From Pansy Parkinson And Can Just As Readily Un-Save:_

_It _is_ my owl that I'm using. His name is Percival. And buying out the store doesn't excuse you from snooping around to get my clothing size._

_And you still owe me interest and I don't bloody care whatever you say because even if I didn't say it, it's understood. Everyone knows that. And if you don't pay me back I'll run around the school telling everyone you can't even afford to pay a Weasley – let __alone __the whore one._

_Weasley_

Draco's response came almost instantaneously.

_Dear I'd-Pull-My-Skirts-Down-For-A-Single-Knut-Trashy-Tramp:_

_It is not your owl and I do happen to know that that's the "name" Weasley Three runs around using. And I did not "snoop around" as you so inexpertly coined it, I merely excel at buying clothes, even if it does happen to be for lesser life forms. But if you must know __everyone __in this bloody institution knows your clothing size. It's what we, higher beings, call "common knowledge"._

_Regarding your interest, fine. You are a Weasley after all, and incapable of shying away from money once you catch its scent. You'll have your payment._

_In terms of Parkinson, you wouldn't dare, and the damage is already done. Crabbe and Goyle beat her off yesterday when she found out and, were you tell her your hand in all of this, she would merely redirect her anger at you. We both know how that would end._

_Meet me in the hall outside the Gryffindor Tower in fifteen minutes._

_Draconis Malfoy_

She glowered at the letter, unsure of how to respond. She knew she shouldn't have called the owl Percival. It wasn't her fault Percy reminded her of owls and that was the first connection she drew. But the more pressing matter was the last line. The hall in fifteen minutes. No explanation. She didn't want to go. He was pure evil. But they'd come to an accord. She snorted. _Accord_.

Hesitantly, she wrote back.

_Malfoy:_

_Fine it's not my owl and yes, it is Percy's name. What truly surprises me is that such a higher power as yourself is willing to retain such filthy common knowledge._

_Anyways, I'll be there._

_Weasley_

_P.S. Am I to assume that "common knowledge" includes underwear sizes? If so, I would appreciate a certain…suit… from the __muggle __company of Victoria's Secret. No objections._

She paused for a bit as the owl flew off with the letter, contemplating what to do next. She was still in the blue dress. That wouldn't do. It was too formal. Plus _he'd_ see. But she couldn't wear the ruined robes and if she purposefully did he'd know why and still make fun of her. At length, she decided on a pair of shorts and one of the innumerable green shirts Draco had bought her. Donning one of the new Gryffindor robes he'd also gotten her, she slipped from the room and ran downstairs. She skirted the couches in the common room and slid through the Fat Lady's portrait. When she reached the corridor Draco was nowhere in sight.

Ginny walked forwards a few steps. There was noise coming from the Great Hall. Everyone was eating. Ginny's stomach grumbled and she decided that it was best she join everyone else. Draco had showed her up. She was about to enter the Great Hall when a door opened and someone's hand shot out. She made to scream, but then she'd been pulled into a dark room and the door had swung hut behind her. Draco's hand clamped down over her mouth.

"Be quiet," Draco hissed.

She pushed his hand off roughly and stepped back unsteadily, taking a seat on a rickety stool. They were in what looked like a broom closet. Washing buckets, archaic mops, and folded rags littered the narrow space about them. Draco was lounging against the opposite wall, a disgusted look on his features and his arms folded over his chest.

"What the devil are we doing in here?" she shot back swiftly, her voice already creeping above a whisper.

"You said you wanted interest."

"Oh." Ginny appeared to be mildly appeased. She straightened on the rickety stool. "Well I don't see why you couldn't just pay me in a reasonable place. This is ridiculous." She wrinkled her nose. "And it smells like dirty mopwater."

Draco rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall. "Well it's hardly an improvement from you." He walked over toward her, a rather reluctant expression on his features.

"That's charming of you. You really do know how to treat a girl. It's a mystery to me how you've only managed to attract Parkinson – what the hell?"

She hadn't the chance to further voice her shock and disgust at Draco's having abruptly taken hold of her waist and pulling her toward him. She'd only realized he'd meant to kiss her when it was far too late to stop it. At first she couldn't believe it. This was definitely in violation of the physical proximity rule. Wait. She'd never actually voiced that rule. But that was no excuse! He was disgusting. She had a boyfriend…well, if Colin could truly be considered a man.

Abruptly, she pushed him away from her, slapping him roughly across the cheek.

"What the hell?" Draco exclaimed, clutching the reddening spot on his pale features.

"I have a bloody boyfriend, you prat!" she shrieked, grabbing at a pile of folded rags and bludgeoning him about the head with it. He swore, shielding his hair with his arms.

"And what? Is that supposed to convince me that that's bothered you before? You were the one going on about your damn interest. And we _all _know just how loose you are."

She stopped swinging at him for the moment, placing her hands over her hips, "_Loose _I may be but I would have to be in quite desperate straits to be _loose _for a _Malfoy._ I clearly wanted money, you dumb ass." She swung out with the towels again, but he caught her by the wrists and flicked the rags from her grasp.

"Will you bloody hold on a second and calm down!" he exclaimed, glaring over at her.

"No – it brings me an unimaginable amount of joy! And how dare you! You really _do_ want to ruin my relationship with Colin!" She wrenched free of him, falling off the stool in the process of it, and grabbed at a bucket of dirty water.

"_No_!" Draco sounded genuinely afraid now. She paused, looking back up at him. He'd covered his head protectively. "_Leave the water alone_."

She hesitated, contemplating it, and Draco cut in swiftly.

"Obviously this was a misunderstanding." He glanced sideways, glowering a little. "Sorry."

"You should be! I have plenty of other boys to keep from chasing me without having to deal with a blonde narcissistic shit of one!" She said this with as much arrogance as she could possibly muster while pushing herself up from the dusty floor.

Draco made a disgusted face. "Hell no." He gagged a little. "I'm still in shock that anyone…_anyone_…would want to do that with…" he started to laugh, "with-with a Weasley…"

She narrowed her eyes. "The water is still right here, you know." She kicked out toward the bucket with her foot. Draco sobered.

"Right." He cleared his throat and looked away, evidently struggling to appear somber. A few moments of silence passed. "So you liked the clothes I got you."

"What? Oh!" She reddened a little, realizing that the clothes were visible beneath her robes. She sniffed. "They're…okay. I was hoping for something a bit less like a granny."

Draco snorted, "I should have guessed they weren't _revealing _enough for you."

She rounded on him in an instant. "Of course they aren't! And I'm only wearing them because my robe is ruined."

"You're wearing one of the shirts I bought you, and a pair of shorts."

"No I'm not." Ginny lied.

"Yes you are. The shirt's green. No self-respecting Weasley would ever wear a green shirt."

Ginny stood silent for a moment, mentally cursing her family for this Weasley-by-law. "Fine, then I'll just give you back all the clothes."

"I don't want them."

"Then I'll return them to the store."

"You can't."

"Why not?" Ginny demanded.

"Because no self-respecting store accepts used clothing. Furthermore, they have been enchanted to fit you and you alone."

"You…" Ginny's expression worsened. "You _don't_ excel at shopping for clothes! You used a spell – _how did you get my clothing size_?"

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes flippantly. "Do whores carry about a lack of memory with them as well? I told you, it's _common knowledge. _But more than that – I am efficient you see – I snuck into your brothers' room and stole it."

There was a moment of silence as Ginny considered this. "Fred and George have my clothing size in their room?"

Draco frowned slightly at this, "Yes," He answered slowly, contemplating what this could possibly mean.

Ginny leaned against the wall. "I don't know what disturbs me more. The fact that Fred and George keep my clothing size in their room or that you took it from them."

"Well I'm not going to argue on you and your family's counseling issues," Draco replied snottily. "I mean I knew you were of the lowest sort possible. But this…"

Ginny stalked over toward him, spanning the foot or so of distant between them. "I've had it, Malfoy. I am the only girl Weasley in this entire world. My mother's a Prewett, and my other five brothers are-!"

"Seven, you _clearly _have six brothers," Draco interrupted with a condescending smile, holding up his fingers for her to count them out. "Being a whore and all, you should at least know how to count so you know you aren't being jipped of your dues."

She ignored him, shaking her head bossily, her voice cold. "Percival is no longer part of the family. But that's beside the point. I am the only female Weasley in the entire world. But you still treat me like the rest of my family. I'm _not_ my brothers though, or my father, and you're going to treat me like any lady should be treated."

Draco snorted. "Whores are under no uncertain terms ladies." Ginny's eyes flashed angrily and Draco rolled his eyes, looking away. A few moments passed. "Fine. But you can't treat me like my father."

Ginny looked toward him. His expression didn't match his words. He looked nonchalant, aloof. "There's no difference between your father and you."

Draco's eyes narrowed, destroying his image of detachment. "He's a Death Eater. I'm not."

Ginny paused, glancing away somewhat. She looked back at him. "I thought you were."

"Me? A Death Eater!" Draco laughed, still managing to look affronted as he did so. "I would never put that dirty black scribble on my perfect Adonis-like skin. As if I would dirty this flawless specimen embodying the epitome of mankind."

"So the only reason you're not a Death Eater… is because you're ridiculously vain," Ginny concluded slowly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Ginny ignored the bait, assessing him. "You're really not a Death Eater then?"

"No. I'm not." He showed her his wrist. Ginny smiled.

"Fine. You're not your father then, and I won't treat you like you are."

"And you're not your brothers."

"Which means…" she trailed off, waiting for him to follow her lead. He raised his eyebrows.

"Were you going to finish that thought?"

She made a face. "Which means you're not going to treat me like _my_ brothers." She paused. "Or call me 'Seven' 'Whore' or any other name your apelike mind derives!"

Draco scowled, crossing his arms and mockingly sighed. "Seven's such a good name for you though."

"It's a number!"

"Number's are easier, especially for your little rodent clan. And you can't even keep your own 'name' straight! Lord, I don't think even Potter knows if your name's Ginny, Ginerva, or Ginevra! Seven is much simpler to keep track of!"

"It's a number, and you promised."

Draco rolled his eyes, as if seeking Heaven for assistance. At length he sighed dismissively.

"Fine. Weasley….wait! Would you prefer courtesan then? That's not ruled out is it?"

Ginny glared daggers at him, "What do you think?"

He sighed, "If you insist."

"Good." Ginny grinned, "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go grab something to eat. Then we can decide what to do with Fred and George. Deal?"

Draco grunted.

**A/N:**

Thank you to all of my new reviewers! I greatly appreciate your reviews and hope that you will remain with me for the rest of the story!

**SimplyElymas**: Sorry if I sound rude, but I found out on the official site that Ginny's real name is actually Ginerva (hey, I choked when I heard that too-I thought it was Virginia as well). Anywyas, thanks for the review. Please keep reading!

**MaybeIShouldQuit**:Well, I fully understand what you mean by doing multiple things at once. You are not alone in this world (sniffs and wipes eyes). Please keep reading and reviewing!

**Duck Goddess**: I promise you that Fred and George will in the end be very sorry for what they did and ended up causing (it's nothing bad although Ron and the twins would call it such). Please keep reading and reviewing and thanks for this review! (Just a wild guess: you like ducks?)

**Maegmel**: Thanks for giving away Draco's nickname! (But then you're my sis so you already know the story, which stinks...) Thanks for reviewing and please continue to do so:)

**marauderfan1992**: I like the "Gred and Forge" idea. And yes, you are right, they have no idea what it is for them. At first it may seem they're calling all the shots, but as the story progresses, they slowly loose control...Please keep reviewing!


	4. Chapter Three: Snape's Secret Admirers

**A/N:**

WARNING: This chapter involves lots of gay people. Viewer discretion is advised.

**Chapter Three: Snape's Secret Admirers**

It was Monday morning. 4:45 AM. Harry groaned that he had woken this early. It's not that he needed beauty sleep…he just enjoyed it. And damnit, that stupid freshly purchased minion's snoring was depriving him of it. He glanced about the room – searching for a means of revenge. His eyes alighted as they landed on the _perfect_object. He glanced around the room expectantly.

"Minion! Flick this at yourself!" He ordered commandingly. He sighed as he realized the ginger minion was still asleep, "Must I do _everything_myself?"

He picked up an elastic band and flicked it at Ron's nose. The redhead slept on, oblivious to what was happening.

"Accio elastic band!" He wished there was something – _anything_ – that could make his wand perform what he wanted to without requiring him to _demand_it to do so. The band came flying back and Harry again flicked it at Ron's nose. "Some number I shouldn't be forced to count to on my own without a minion plus one." Harry counted. "Accio elastic band!" He flicked it at Ron's nose again. "Some number I shouldn't be forced to count to on my own without a minion plus two."

_Fifteen minutes later…_

"Some number I shouldn't be forced to count to on my own without a minion plus five hundred and twenty two," Harry mumbled. He flicked the elastic band at Ron's nose again. This time the redhead made some movement.

"Go away, Bonnie!" He mumbled, "I told you I'm going to be wearing Bessie tonight! I'm not cheating on you," He turned over in bed, "she's just red and sparkly. And the five inch heels definitely give me more height…I'm sorry Bonnie but three inches just doesn't cut it for me anymore," Ron then began to snore loudly. Harry stared at him glumly for a moment, wishing there was someone who could stare glumly at someone for him.

He didn't want to move. But this newly acquired minion was useless. Not even mildly entertaining. He sighed and pulled himself from bed slowly, pocketing his wand. He walked downstairs to the Common Room. He wasn't surprised to find Ginny already up. He _was_surprised that she wasn't tearing towards him, and attempting to rip off his clothes like _every- other- person_did. She jerked her head in Harry's direction as soon as he entered the room.

"Hi, Harry." She greeted, "Wanna know why I'm up so…so early?"

It might have been his lack of sleep, but he could have sworn Ginny started zipping her shirt down more at realizing he had walked in. She looked a little too pleased at finding herself alone with him – then again _anyone_would. Of course, he'd known she'd had a thing for him second year. Who didn't. He was Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was perfect. Gorgeous. A god in the form of a human. Everyone wanted him. No. Everyone _needed_him. Well. He could think of one book worm who didn't.

Ginny turned from him, still grinning maniacally, and looked to the fire. "To tell…truth, I … Draco in … Fred and George's heads. Draco went back …room…. … down here until …brothers…up." Harry only managed to catch a few words that she was practically screaming at him. Didn't she understand that such low quality whores didn't have the permission – nay, the _right_to confront him so?

Harry, starting from his reverie, grunted. Verbal responses weren't necessary for prostitutes. He had delicate ears, damn her. He collapsed unto the couch opposite her – trying not to be _too _alluring.

Ginny shrugged and yawned, looking back toward him. "Why are you up?"

It took him several minutes to conclude the battle raging within him on whether or not she deserved a response. He heard her talking but he wasn't sure what she'd said. He didn't bother to ask. He didn't care enough. He sprawled out on the couch and waved his hand dismissively.

"My hair's messy. The minion's nose is screwed up," he kicked at the pillow at his feet. It fell to the floor. There was a brief silence as the two examined each other. He watched her expectantly. "Pick that up." He sighed and leaned his head back so that he was staring at the ceiling. Even further so that the light hit his skin just right. "And I don't even have any more homework to order-"

Ginny looked at him in disgust. "Hermione got to you too, didn't she?"

Harry's green eyes narrowed at Ginny, as if he realized there was another person in the room for the first time, "What do you mean _got to me too_…"

He abruptly sat up, reddening and started screaming at Ginny. "No! What are you even talking about? She hasn't _gotten_ to me? What the hell is that supposed to even mean? Bloody hell what's with the questions, don't you have somewhere to be? Stuff to do? People to whore yourself out over?" He'd leapt up from the chair, a wild glint in his eyes even as his cheeks flamed red. Ginny stared at him.

"Er… I meant because you did your homework. That because you did your homework… she'd gotten to you."

There was a moment of silence.

"…Oh."

Harry stood there awkwardly a moment, his cheeks growing (if possible) all the more red. He sat back down on the couch. He cleared his throat. "I do – how should I put this – I do of course, _realize_that I am perfectly gorgeous," He feigned an exasperated sigh, "But you _could_stop gawking at me. You have other people – other _things_– to be doing. Like that pillow for instance. Pick it up! Honestly Hermione would _never_have to be told twice."

He'd hardly said Hermione's name before the very girl in question stepped down from the stairs leading to the dormitory. She was reading from a massive book and seemed hardly cognizant of her surroundings. She sat down beside Harry on the couch.

"I heard that you know." She said, flipping through the pages.

Harry nearly fell from where he sat, his face flaming red once more. "What? Heard what? That's not even possible! I didn't mention that I'm in love with you!"

There was a long, awkward silence. But Hermione was too busy staring at Ginny, a confused expression on her face.

"I don't understand are you…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "_are you off from work_?" she asked, her voice painstakingly slow, as if she were worried Ginny might not follow simple English.

Ginny was still staring at her reflection in the bronze of the fireplace. She zipped her shirt down lower, revealing her lacy black bra.

"Now _that's_better," She muttered to herself, before hiking up her shorts.

Hermione looked from Ginny, aghast, turning to back to the conceited boy who had fallen from the couch in an attempt to grab at the pillow Ginny had never picked up.

"Did you say something, Harry?"

Harry, who had just managed to grab the pillow, flung it out toward Hermione sharply and leapt up onto the couch even as it collided with her face. There was a crash as the couch overbalanced and he fell down onto the other side of the common room. Ginny, who had been walking toward the mirror above the chess table, was knocked from her feet by the careening couch. She fell toward the hearth and shrieked even as Harry let out a wild exclamation.

"Say anything? Why would I say anything? Why would I even talk to you? Isn't my mere presence enough? You greedy bastard!"

Hermione, having caught the pillow from her face, flung it blindly toward Ginny. Ginny had just managed to push away from the hearth and douse the embers on her shirt ignored the pillow. She eyed her shirt. The embers had burned through it.

"You burned my shirt – now everyone can see my bra perfectly!"

Harry and Hermione both looked over toward her, and confirmed that this was true. Ginny rolled her eyes, flipped her hair and shrugged, strutting off towards the stairs.

"I'm going to go upstairs and check on Fred and Ge-" she broke off sharply, her mouth still partially forming the name and looked over to Hermione. Hermione's eyes slid over toward Ginny, narrowing slightly. Hermione had a knack for finding rule breakers and pranksters.

"er…check on Ron's nose for a welt," Ginny concluded. She turned sharply and took the stairs up to the boys' dormitory. She could dimly hear Harry asking Hermione if she could pick up the pillow which the "incredibly dim-witted slut" couldn't manage to do.

_Ten minutes later…_

Ginny was flipping through Ron's diary. Fred and George still weren't awake and she supposed if she was in their room when they woke up it would be too obvious. So she'd gone to Ron's and checked on his nose like she said she would. It wasn't her fault if she'd happened to casually be looking underneath the third rung of bed-frame and happened to feel the diary crammed in between the wood and mattress. But above that, it wasn't her fault that she knew where it was.

She came across a page that made her gag.

"_I am in love with Hermione Granger. I know I've told you this a million times, diary, but it's true. She is the one for me. I can just imagine it. I'll marry Hermione when I grow up, and she will become Mrs. Ronald Weasley. Ginny will marry Harry, and then Harry will become my brother in law. We would all live out in the country next to mum and dad. Then I can always be one step away from mum's cooking._

_Anyways, I think Hermione likes me too. I'm going to ask her out some time this year. She'll say yes. I know she will. I'm her perfect man-"_

Ginny stopped reading in disgust. She slammed the lavender book with pink flowers embossed on the cover shut, and stuffed it back under her brother's pillow. Ron was gross. First of all, he kept a girl's diary, second of all, he thought Hermione was in love with him. But the most unforgivable and heinous of his offenses was in thinking she would marry –

Ginny stopped, her mind being distracted by how uncomfortable the new bra was that Draco had bought for her. She quickly stripped it off and flung it carelessly into Ron's area of the dorm. Zipping her shirt back up, she remembered her train of thought.

Dorm room…Ron's bed…diary…entry – oh right!

Yes, she _had_ liked Harry back in her first year. Yes, she _might_ have gone to bed every night prior to attending Hogwarts listening to stories about him. It was possible she had bought every photo book on him and feasible that she might have scrawled some variation on the word "husband" as caption beneath each photo but that was years ago! She'd grown since then! She realized she didn't _need_a husband for what she wanted. So she had a boyfriend…had had boy_friends_…and even the occasional girl!

Wait why was she mad again?

"Okay, I remember!" She exclaimed to the room at large. She jabbed a finger at Ron's sleeping form, "How _dare_Ron assume that I like Harry! Honestly, it's so _obvious_that I like Draco!"

Ginny grinned smugly to herself.

"Wait. Hell! What the _hell_ was that? _I SO DO NOT LIKE DRACO, YOU ASS!"_She slapped Ron across the face.

Surprisingly, he didn't wake.

"Harry, I told you – these high heels don't fit me!"

Ginny was dumbstruck for a moment, before her memory wiped again and she shrugged. She got off of Ron's bed and collapsed onto the floor in-between Ron's and Dean's beds.

She sighed to herself, "I knew I wasn't talking aloud!"

Again she grinned slightly, clutching the diary to her chest and a guilty expression donned her face as she thought of Draco.

"Wait! What the hell." It was a good thing these idiots were asleep.

"It's a good thing you idiots are asleep."

Wait that was ridiculous, the conversation was in her head. She wasn't talking out loud. Then she realized she was mental for talking to herself (in or outside of her head) in the first place.

She scrambled up from the floor hastily, staggering toward the door. She paused, remembering again what had transpired. Without another thought she flung the hard-cover-pink-flower diary at Ron's head and scrambled – as fast as one in high heels can – from the room, with a wild scream. It was bad timing on her part. She slammed into Fred and George. Both were both bald. It was only worse because she and Draco had shaved their eyebrows off as well. Despite the recent horror she'd discovered crawling somewhere in the spaces of her mind, Ginny couldn't help but grin. She and Draco had done a good job.

"Well, Fred, George, do you like your new hairstyles? Malfoy had the idea."

Fred and George grinned down at her.

"Of course, Gin. Anyone can tell you that it's physically impossible for you to come up with an idea on your own," Fred replied plastering a fake smile on his face.

"But yes, Ginny the Whore, we _love_ them." George's voice rang with false ecstasy.

"So, you and Malfoy did this?" Fred mused. He winked at George.

"You know what?" George began, "I only think it fair if we repay these aspiring hair dressers with one of our own personal favorites. Don't you?"

Fred smiled and dumped a strange smelling liquid onto Ginny's hair. She shrieked, and tried to wipe it off, but it was no use. It worked frighteningly fast. Her hair was turning the purest blonde. So pure a blond that it could only be an exact replica of one other person's hair. A person that she refused to now mentally acknowledge due to the crazed thought that she had witnessed mere moments before.

"No!" She shrieked, "My hair!" Ginny ran down the stairs, shrieking. This woke up Ron who ran out of his room, and ran into Fred and George.

"MY HELL!" Ron shrieked, rubbing at the faintest of bruises on his face, courtesy of his diary, "Who are you!"

Fred and George grinned. "Look at ickle-Ronnykins!" George exclaimed.

"Was it a nightmare, Ronnykins?" Fred said, nodding understandingly at his younger brother.

Ron turned bright red. "Why you-!"

"Now, Ronnykins, you can't use that type of language here." George said in a shocked tone.

"I didn't even say-!"

"We knew what you were going to say," Fred answered, keeping his voice low.

"_We can read minds_," George whispered lowly, smiling kindly toward his brother.

"But we'll still have to teach you a lesson for that near slip up." Fred went on. "Here, I'll tell you what we have in mind."

George interrupted him, "Before you do, I think it would be only fair for all the Weasleys present in Hogwarts to have new hairstyles." Fred considered this, then nodded. George took out a razor and moved toward his brother. Ron swore and tried to spin around and run back to his room, but Fred grabbed him by the arms and held him in place. George shaved off a strip of hair from the middle of Ron's head with frightening alacrity. Ron was about to shriek, but Fred cut him off.

"Now listen. By the end of today, both you and Snape will be attached to each other in naught but your boxers for three days straight, and there is nothing you can do about it. Because," he looked to George.

George smiled kindly toward his brother, nodding his head slowly. "Because in your potions class today, Neville's cauldron will explode all over you … his lab partner. Snape will of course investigate the unsightly matter, and then become attached to you due to the presence of a certain nefarious liquid that Fred and I will place in Neville's cauldron. Snape will try to scourgify the issue, but it will be to no avail. We've made sure of it." He paused. "However,"

"However, through no fault of our own and certainly having nothing to do with a backfire surrounding the use of the _scourgifying_ charm and our strange liquid, you will then be stuck together in naught but your boxers," Fred continued. "And, it kills me to say this, but there's nothing you can do to stop this. Skipping class would never be allowed, darling Hermione would notice and … probably do worse to you than our punishment, now that I think of it," he paused, glancing toward George. There was a brief pause as the twins considered this new alternative. Then George shook his head. Fred looked back to Ron.

"Well anyways. Once Hermione drags you to potions, you will not be able to change partners. Snape will never listen, and if you tell him all this he'll probably just deduct points from Gryffindor and then reward himself for the action by pouring even more oil into his hair. As is his wont. Neville's cauldron will explode because we may or may not have put some explosives under his cauldron. We're … we're two eighths positive they won't permanently maim anyone."

Ron's eyes grew round as saucers, but George had already cut in.

"Hence, you will be attached to Snape in only your boxers for three whole days."

Both twins leaned forward, clapping Ron amicably on the shoulders, and then leapt down the dormitory stairs, screaming like hooligans. Ron sank down the wall, weeping, and clutched his knees up against his chest, muttering something about how he missed his dolly. Harry appeared at the height of the stairs.

"Good, my ginger minion. You're awake – did you make my bed?"

Ron made incoherent blubbering noises. Harry glanced down at his "ginger minion" as if realizing he was no longer at eye level.

"Minion – up! I haven't the time to waste on your incompetence!"

Harry had hardly voiced his displeasure before Ron had leapt up from where he had fallen, grabbed Harry in a quite unseemly hug, and cried out in a maddened state, spit flying in all directions from his mouth, and landing on Harry's glasses.

"IDON''TLIVELIKETHATIJUSTCANTNOOO!"

There was an awkward moment of silence following the explosion. Harry sniffed disdainfully and sighed, pushing the clutching ginger from his robes.

Harry sighed and slowly removed the glasses from his head, "Page _one_of our contract…no physical contact."

He reached out awkwardly and, slowly, wiped the glasses clean on Ron's robe before putting them back on.

"Don't make me fire you, Ginger." Harry's face flickered for a moment, as he realized that Ron was in front of him.

"Well it's great to see you're awake, mate!" Harry said cheerily, putting his glasses back on.

Ron released him and took a step back. "Hide me."

Harry was grinning benignly about the hall. He took a breath. "Well. I think I smell pancakes for breakfast. Then it's off to the Quidditch Pitch, eh?" he clapped Ron on the shoulder, still grinning at everything about him.

Ron grabbed him sharply by the arm. "Harry, you've got to hide me! Fred and George are-"

"Hmm? What? I say, aren't you stoked for how I'm going to be perfect at practice today?"

"HARRY – HIDE – MUST – HIDE!"

And then the normal Harry was gone, replaced by God: Harry.

"You're right," Harry was shocked, almost terrified. "I've _got_to hide from those bludgers. They could destroy my perfect body!" Harry screamed, feeling his face to make sure that it was all still there, "My poor face…!" He was still grimacing painfully when his glance snagged on Ron's head. "Is that supposed to be more aerodynamic or something?" Harry narrowed his piercing green eyes. "You look like a buff-on," Ron didn't correct Harry's error, "But do you find that it works? Because you know, I've been finding that my Firebolt really doesn't do it like it used to… I've really… Lately I've actually had to _work_ to catch the Snitch!" He laughed, holding his hands out in bafflement. "I mean, what is that? I'm Harry Potter. The Snitch comes to _me_. You know what I'm saying!" He pointed down towards his body, "_Everyone_comes to me."

Feet on the stairs made them turn. Hermione appeared, catching hold of Harry's arm. It took much of Harry's effort not to snatch his arm from this overly needy wretch. He even gagged slightly. Then he realized it was Hermione. He instantly put his other arm around her and turned back to Ron as if nothing had happened. He eyed him for a moment, and then pointed at the place before his feet.

"Ginger, bow before your masters."

Ron's face clouded over with confusion.

"Harry, we need to go to the Library – come on," Hermione started pulling at Harry.

"Masters?" Ron finally managed to question, a blank expression marking his features.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, Ginger _Retard_. Me and Hermione; your masters. _Now bow_."

"Harry! Come on!" Hermione urged. Harry looked back at her, his face flushing red.

"Did you mention a closet? You want me in a closet? Oh, where?" Harry was instantly alert.

"We need to go to the library." She said.

Harry paused, hesitant. "I sort of…" he seemed crestfallen, "You mean you really don't want me in a closet! I mean _who doesn't_?"

Hermione sighed patiently, and glanced at him meaningfully, waiting for him to catch on. Harry's shoulders slumped.

"I sort of have Quidditch Practice – oooh! I know – you can watch me win and attack any unwanted girls who stare at me longer than the permitted thirty seconds. _Then_ we can go to that closet you mentioned."

"It doesn't matter – we're going to the library." Hermione replied stubbornly, dragging Harry to the library along with her.

_Down in the hallways…_

Draco and Ginny were both panicking. Ginny's once red hair was now blond and looked as if she had stuck her finger in a socket. Draco's hair was a flaming scarlet. He looked as if he had stuck his finger in a socket as well.

"My beautiful hair! It's on _you_!" Draco shrieked, clutching at her hair wildly, praying that it would somehow return to his head.

"Well whose fault is that?" She snapped up at him, "You practically _handed_ yourself over to them! At least I was taken by surprise!" she retorted. Draco gasped, clearly affronted and a hand whipped up towards his chest.

"I was sipping an espresso on my early morning inspection of the halls as I always _do_," Draco shot back, glancing at her demeaningly, "it's hardly my fault they appeared." He paused. "And now I'm a bloody GINGER. How the hell can I respect myself now? Scratch that – how can _anyone_respect me anymore?"

"You're lucky to get anything from me. My red hair _clearly_makes you look better than you normally would." Ginny retorted bitterly.

Draco looked over to her sharply. Ginny flushed, mentally cursing herself. Draco's eyes flitted between her and the walls. "What … what was that you just said?"

"N-nothing." Ginny stammered, blushing. At a loss for anything else to do, she hit him violently on the arm. "It's like you're going deaf or something!" She paused, dropping the hand that was absentmindedly twirling her blonde hair.

"Wait that doesn't make sense," She shook her head. Then she caught glimpse of her hair color and shrieked, collapsing on top of Draco. She somehow managed to talk while doing so, "Let's just fix our hair."

Draco pushed her away roughly. She realized belatedly that she was still clutching onto him.

"Well. The best bet is the potions room. Snape will help us."

Ginny, grateful for a conversation change, agreed readily and they tore down toward the dungeons, taking the stairs two at a time. In the potions room, it was a sight that greeted their eyes. Snape and Ron were both attached in naught but their matching heart boxers. Ron was missing the middle of his hair, and Snape was entirely bald and missing one eyebrow – whereas Ron had neither. Both were squabbling. Ginny and Draco froze in the doorway.

Snape looked to them both haughtily.

"And what do you think you're looking at?" He demanded angrily. "There's nothing to see here!" He drew his hand out imperiously across himself and Ron.

"What the bloody hell?" Draco and Ginny's attention was drawn to Ron. The second youngest Weasley, a righteous fury in his eyes, held a shaking finger out accusatorily toward his sister. "How dare you enter the potions room at the same time as him? You've broken the Weasley-subservant-by-laws-set-about-by-our-Master-Harry-Potter!"

"You're right," Draco glanced back to her in disgust. "You should be at least four steps behind me." He shooed her back, flicking his fingers. Ginny ignored him.

"No, I have not! They clearly state I'm not allowed to enter the potions room within a foot of a Malfoy. This is obviously more like a meter!" She motioned between herself and Draco. Her stupidity might have been looked over were it not for the fact that the two touching.

Draco had lost the conceited look while she spoke. He glanced back at her skeptically. "You mean they actually exist?" He demanded.

"And what in all of hell has happened to your hair?" Snape was asking, eyeing Draco and Ginny. "How dare you enter my sanctum appearing thus? You bring shame upon these hallowed halls." Snape once more drew his arm out imperiously over his shamelessly pale chest and heart boxers. Ginny could have sworn she saw a bead of oil drip from his single eyebrow and onto his equally oily chest.

"We need a hair potion," Draco was saying, sounding annoyed.

"Third shelf, second cabinet to the left." Snape replied automatically. Ginny gave Draco a look but he was already moving toward the cabinet. She followed him at breakneck speed. She found the potion first and they both tore from the room, the door swinging shut behind them. The door had hardly closed before Draco leaned over her shoulder and snatched the potion from her grasp. He uncorked it avariciously.

"Wait!" Ginny exclaimed. They both looked. There was next to nothing left of the potion. Draco grabbed it. "I need it more than you do. This," he gestured to himself, "is a crime!"

"Please, mine is just as disgusting!"

"How dare you?" Draco drew himself up, looking affronted. "That is _my_ hair you're talking about. It can only improve your overly-done, whorish looks."

"WELL I HATE BLOND HAIR!"

"WELL I'M A BLOODY GINGER AND THAT'S A SIN AGAINST HUMANITY!"

"That's not a reason!" Ginny shrieked, stamping her foot.

"Yes it is!" he retorted. "And even if it isn't, I get the potion because I'm older!"

"Well I get it because I'm a girl!"

"Whores don't count as girls! And I'm way stronger!"

Ginny couldn't think of anything to say. It had been a rough day, and her mind wasn't at its best – then again, it never was. She came up with a compromise. "Share it?"

"I mean, why don't we both share it!" She grinned stupidly up at him, proud at herself for this new, earth shattering idea.

"What is _sharing_?" Draco asked suspiciously. Ginny looked at him in disbelief.

"I'm not the dumberer one anymore!" She cocked her head happily, and pranced about in a circle shaking her butt in Draco's face. When she recovered from her fit she screamed happily, "Give me the bottle and I'll show you!"

"Hell no!" Draco wrenched away from her.

"Oh come on, I'll kick you if you don't!" She narrowed her eyes connivingly, "I'll kick your _ball."_She held up two fingers at him menacingly.

Draco's mouth gaped open for a moment, surprised by her stupidity. It didn't look like he would give in, but then she raised her high-heeled foot threateningly. He relented and she poured out a few drops from the bottle.

"Now, you get half," She dropped some liquid into his hands, "And I get half. This is sharing." Ginny rubbed her half into her own hair. Draco did the same. Within a few moments they were back to normal.

Draco ran his hands protectively over his head, as if to ensure himself that his hair was indeed back on his head. There was a moment's silence. He glanced sideways toward Ginny, shifting slightly where he stood.

"So you … you really don't like blond hair, then?"

She hesitated, thinking on it. "No. I think it's hot. On you anyway!" She grinned stupidly up at him. Then her smile faltered and she looked away. Neither of them looked at each other as Ginny realized that, once more, she had spoken aloud. Draco cleared his throat.

"Why the hell are Snape and Weasly six attached?"

"I don't know. But …FRED AND GEORGE…they did it, yeah?" She looked back over toward Draco, but his expression had turned murderous.

"Four and Five are going to pay." He narrowed his eyes, a hard glint shining in them. "I said it before but now they really will. I'm going to kill them."

Ginny glanced about the abandoned hall.

"Um… you, you're not serious, are you? They're… they're still my bro- my broth – _family!_"

Draco seemed oblivious. "They're going to pay." He repeated it again, sounding far too pleased.

"Yahh!" Ginny interceded swiftly, somewhat dubious of whatever plan Draco was hatching, "and I have the hottest idea." She waved her wand. "Adio…Attio…Achio…hmmm…oh yah! Accio pen and…and," She snapped at Draco cutting through before he could speak, "I have this!" She glanced up towards the ceiling again, " and paper!" Some papers and a pen flew up to her. "We," she glanced toward Draco before sitting down cross-legged on the floor, "are going to write some love letters to Professor Snape … signed Fred and George Weasley."

Draco glanced down at her, a faint smile twisting around his mouth. "You know this is where I _might_have said you should have been put into Slytherin. Except you're too," He sighed as if searching for a word, "you're just too stupid." He shook his head, smiling sympathetically at her.

"Awww! Thanks!" Ginny smiled too. She looked back toward the paper. "I learned…I learn stuff! From them…From my brothe- no, no I just can't remember it! Okay, whatever…from my family." She paused, looking up toward him. "Get down!" she motioned toward the floor next to her. Draco snorted, looking away.

"No, I will never stoop to your level," He smiled at his own joke.

She glared at him, gathering what little intelligence she could, "You're like, _totally_supposed to help me."

"I am not sitting on that floor."

"Hmmm," She grinned deviously and grabbed his arm, surprising Draco by her strength, and pulled him to the floor next to her.

There was a long silence before Draco snapped at her,

"Well? Are you going to write it?"

Ginny looked abashed – for once – and her cheeks flamed up.

"Well…I kind of…I don't…remember?"

Draco gaped for a moment, and then realized he _must_have misunderstood. "Don't remember what?"

She bit her lip, "Remember to like…" She twirled her hair, and unzipped her shirt some more – oblivious to the fact that she no longer had a bra on, "to like write?"

Draco groaned loudly, and averted his gaze from her chest.

"What were you going to say?" He glared up at the ceiling.

She sighed and shook her head, looking back toward the letter.

"Ummm….You have to make it sound smarticles and shit!"

It was a few moments before Draco could find his calm voice.

"Zip up your damn shirt, you whore."

"I'm wearing a shirt," She mused to herself, looked down and her face lit up, "I am!" She obliged by zipping it up. "Okay, so, like…write it." She flicked her hands toward the parchment.

Draco grunted and turned away from her, bowing down over his writing. Ginny lasted about ten seconds before she started to twirl her hair and singing "I'm a Barbie Girl" to herself. Draco stopped writing.

"Wait wait. You _retain_knowledge? You actually _remember_things?"

"Orange!" She screamed up at him brightly. He sighed and continued on to the letter as she resumed singing. She absentmindedly summoned her bra. She stripped her scorched shirt from her bare torso.

"Do you mind?" Draco snapped irritably at her.

She ignored him and snapped her bra back on. She contemplated something for a moment, then shrugged and decided to put her shirt back on.

It was some minutes before he completed the letter and at length showed it to her.

_Dearest Professor Snape:_

_It has taken me years to come up with the courage to tell you this, but now, as I realize I am beginning my last year here at Hogwarts, I am forced to tell you my true feelings. I love you, Severus. You are always in my dreams, and I cannot stop thinking of you. I look forward to every Potions class with an ecstatic heart and a joyful soul. You are the light of my life._

_Your Adoring Student,_

_George Weasley_

Draco watched her, astounded that she'd managed to read it. Albeit out loud, and stumbling over the longer words (such as beginning, and adoring and whatnot).

"It so tastes good!" she leaned back, playing with her hair again. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"_Tastes good_," he repeated flatly. "You get dumber by the minute. It's like I'm watching your brain die. That these are the last few hours it has…"

"I have a brain! Is it…_sexy_?" She asked in a low voice, moving closer to Draco. He involuntarily scooted away from her.

"Er, we should finish that other letter for…" he paused. "Damnit…I thought I told you to zip your shirt up! Ugh. Anyway – which one of them is bloody older, I don't know which number to give the…"

"To give…Billby...no. Okay…Charlestone? Umm….Ronickand? Nah. Okay… Fred."

Draco made a face. "The…"

"_Fred_."

"Four point five."

"Well that's not right. You just assumed he was older and then added like, an eight," Ginny retorted. "How do you know he's not five point two?"

Draco stood up, favoring her with a withering glance and then snatched the pen from her grasp. Ginny made a face and then moved so that she could stand at his shoulder. She peered up toward his writing. He stopped and looked over toward her.

"Can I help you?" His face was rather close to hers. But that was her fault. She'd moved over to his shoulder. Not that she cared; she made to move in closer towards him

"Ok, there needs to be a rule-" He took an involuntary step backward, as she continued advancing. "Yeah, you're not allowed to watch me write," he finally managed, pushing her away. He turned from her and resumed writing with his spare hand.

"No, that wasn't what I was going to say _at all_," she answered. He made no response. He tried his best to avoid her obvious staring.

A few minutes later, both letters had been written, and Draco was about to give them to Snape. Ginny stopped him though.

"Wait," she grinned somewhat wickedly. Draco could have sworn he saw her brain cell count shoot upward, "I have one more thing. Accio Ron's diary!" Draco couldn't suppress the laughter when he saw the flowered diary appear.

"Ron…Ron keeps a _diary_!"

Ginny looked over at him. Draco was laughing hysterically, his face reddening somewhat. She smiled. "Did you just call Ron by his name?"

The laughter died abruptly; Draco preferred the dumb, overbearing slut-Ginny who didn't recall how to write. He straightened, glancing sideways. "No."

"Yes, you did. You called him Ron. You actually _do_ think of us by our names!" She jabbed out with her finger toward his chest on the word 'do'. Draco swatted her finger aside.

"Do not and did not!"

"You did. That means you actually think of me as Ginny!"

"That is a filthy lie – you _always_be Prostitute to me."

She couldn't stop smiling though and she turned from him, sitting back down on the floor. She flipped through the pages of Ron's diary.

She scrawled on the bottom of the page:

_Ron:_

_Sorry to bust your bubble, but I am never going to marry Harry. I am sooo over him. And Hermione doesn't like you. She likes Harry, and Harry likes her. They were writing each other love letters in the train on the way over here while you were unconscious (idiot you ate all my chocolate frogs!). If Hermione ever marries, it's going to be to Harry. So, I guess that leaves you with Snape. Anyways, you two look so good!_

_Your Annoying Sister,_

_Ginerva Molly Weasley_

Draco, who had been leaning over her shoulder reading looked up. "Harry and Hermione were writing love letters to each other in the train?" He bit back his previous question – the one regarding as to how she remembered her letters.

She glanced toward him. "Not exactly, but Ron doesn't know that because he was unconscious." She closed the diary and grabbed the letters. "Now let's give this to Snape and Ron."

Draco opened the door for her and they walked up to Snape and Ron. The two were still fighting in the middle of the potions room.

"Professor Snape, here are some letters Fred and George asked us to deliver." Ginny announced, stopping just in front of the two. Neither noticed her or Draco's appearance. She looked over toward the Slytherin for support, but Draco merely made a face and shrugged.

"PROFESSOR SNAPE HERE ARE SOME LETTERS FRED AND GEORGE ASKED ME TO DELIVER!" she shrieked. Abruptly, Snape and Ron turned to look over at her. She glanced toward her brother, holding the diary out in front of Ron. "Oh and here's your diary. I found it on the stairs."

Ron turned a mottle red hue and grabbed at the book, hugging it against his chest, rocking back and forth.

"It's okay, Looney. It's okay, Loonie – no one read your secretive depths." He paused abruptly, "You didn't read it did you?"

"Of course not." Ginny smiled and patted him on the head. She looked over toward Snape. He collapsed hardly a moment later, crashing down toward his potions table. Ron shrieked and fell down with him, the letters fluttered to the ground all around him.

Draco raised his eyebrows next to her. "I didn't see that happening."

Snape was fanning himself with letters and Ron was sobbing into 'Looney's' 'depths'. Both were oblivious to the glass jar filled with a rather questionable substance that had shattered on their collapse and started to drip down on them.

"I am _surrounded_ by gays!" Snape exclaimed, fluttering his eyes slightly.

Ron abruptly stopped crying. "Whatever do you mean, Professor?"

Snape flung the letters up into the air. "They're gay! The world is gay! Hogwarts is populated by gays!"

"No, it's not."

"Then how do you explain this, NUMBER SIX? How do you explain these?" he waved the letters in Ron's face. He started to weep hysterically. "I'm being stalked by gay gingers!"

"Fred and George aren't gay."

"Yes they are," Snape was still sobbing. He dabbed at his eyes with the letters. "And so are you."

Ron turned puce. "I am _not_."

"Yes you are!" Snape shouted, suddenly violent. He nearly throttled Ron, "What self respecting straight boy keeps a diary with flowers on it?"

"But it's not mine. Percival had bought it for Ginny her second year. Ginny threw it out because of the last diary she had gotten," At this Draco started to look uncomfortable, Ron continued, "And I found it. I thought it would be a waste of money to leave it in the trash, so I made it…my…diary. I made it unique, though! The flowers were _all_my idea. I mean, poor Looney," He started cooing down to the diary in question, "she was so bland and pink before. Now she has meaning!" He traced some of the tacky flower stickers, smiling giddily to himself.

"See!" Snape shrieked, "HE'S GAY! ALL THE WEASLEY CHILDREN ARE GAY!"

"I am not gay!" Ginny shrieked. "I am at best lesbian!"

Snape disregarded this. "Yes you are!" He was screaming hysterically, "You're all gay!" He started jumping up and down, waving his hands haphazardly about him, "Draco's gay! Ron's gay! Fred's gay! Gerorge's gay! Ginny's gay!"

At this Ron cut in, "You mean Fred and George are finally getting married? I always knew they fancied each other—and I wondered why they shared a room-!"

"Ugh! Ron, you are sick!" Ginny said, disgusted. Draco was impressed – her intelligence was definitely climbing.

"NOOOO!" Snape hollered, "They're in love with _me_!" Snape wailed. At this, Ron looked outraged.

"How dare they? I am your only love, Severus! Do not allow my fiendish brothers to steal you away! They always get what they want! Whether it's the biggest chocolate frog or my favorite stuffed pink elephant! They can't take you too, you lovably oily haired lunatic!" Ron wailed, wrapping his arms around Snape's bare chest.

Snape shrieked girlishly, pushing the aforementioned Ginger away. Ron started to cry. "YOU'RE ALL GAY! I AM THE ONLY STRAIGHT PERSON LEFT IN THIS ENTIRE WORLD!" Snape hollered.

"Tough luck," Ron observed. His voice was drowned out by Draco and Ginny's raucous protestations attesting to their heterosexuality.

"But you are!" Snape wailed, breaking down on the floor.

"No we're not!" Draco exclaimed, "And I'll prove it to you!" Then he grabbed Ginny and forcefully kissed her. Ginny seemed to have lost the brain cells she had just recently acquired. She ripped her shred of a shirt off. Draco, having noticed this, jumped back from her. Ron stopped crying.

"Ginny! How could you! You kissed my love!"

There was complete silence. Draco took an involuntary step back. His face drained of all color. "_What_?"

Ron took a step towards Draco. Draco yelped and ran behind Ginny. "Leave me alone, Ginger Number Six!" He shrieked.

Ginny glanced back at him, seemingly unaffected by her lack of a shirt, "Manly."

At this Snape sat down on the ground, howling, causing Ron to not be able to move, "I am surrounded by gays! Help me!"

"Draco and I are so like not gay!" Ginny shrieked. Then she grabbed Draco and made out with him. When she and Draco finally broke apart, they were both breathless, and Ron (not to mention Snape) were weeping piteously.

"Draco, you're breaking my heart!" Ron cried. "And Ginny how could you?"

Then Snape cut in. "No! It's _you_ Ronald! You're secretly jealous of young Malfoy because he kissed your sister. It's you Ronald! You are bisexual and want to commit incest with number…five…six…SEVEN!" Snape accused, looking up from the fingers he had been counting with.

At this Ginny took a step away from Ron. Ron started to wail. "Oh no! Severus, you have it all wrong! I am in love with only three! You, Severus—my dear professor, my friend Hermione, and Draco. I am not gay. It's Ginny who is gay. I've seen how she looks at Hermione!"

Ginny looked shocked. "I am not _lesbian_!" She proceeded to kiss Draco again – it seemed he had overcome his aversion to her lack of a shirt – and at this Ron only began to whine again. At that moment Harry and Hermione entered – hand in hand – into the room. Severus spoke.

"And you Harry, you the hottest bachelor in all of Hogwarts! You never even told me you were gay! And I was always you're adoring fan!"

Harry smirked at this compliment and shrugged to Hermione, "I told you."

Hermione seemed oblivious to Harry – she was staring at the currently making out Draco and Ginny. She seemed to be the only one that had a problem with Ginny being in nothing but her shorts and bra.

"Ginny! Put a shirt back on!"

Ginny didn't even try to reply to her. Hermione made a disgusted _tsk_ing sound and looked back to Harry. "And it's obviously not Snape. Clearly, someone is used an incredibly bad pot of polyjuice potion to masquerade as him. He's missing his hair and an eyebrow!"

"That's just because the _real_Snape willingly sacrificed himself at my altar," Harry retorted.

"HARRY IS GAY!" Ron screeched abruptly, holding a denouncing finger out toward Harry. His other hand still clutched the flowered diary to his bare chest. "AND HE NEVER TOLD ME OR SEVERUS EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE ALWAYS LOVED HIM!"

"_Liar_!" Snape slapped Ron across the face. "You said you only had three!" He slapped him again. "Myself, Hermione, and young Draco." Snape asked.

"Well I have four: You (dearest Severus), Hermione, Draco, and Harry." Ron concluded proudly.

"Goodness, Harry, Ron is bisexual!" Hermione exclaimed with wide eyes. Harry pushed Hermione behind him.

"Take one step towards her, Bisexual Slave, and you'll be sorry." He paused thinking for a moment, "Ginger Minion Number One: Deactivate." He flicked his fingers towards Ron.

For a moment Harry stood, waiting in expectation. Then Ron started wailing again.

"Damnit, I knew this would happen! He's malfunctioning!" Harry started cursing to himself, and swearing to sue whichever company had sold him this faulty minion.

Snape began to complain that the entire world was gay and Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny were all highly disturbed with this frightening news. Then Crabbe and Goyle entered the room.

"And they too are gay!" Ron exclaimed. At this Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other sadly.

Crabbe looked at Goyle, confused, "Umm…Gay?"

Goyle thought for a moment, then his face lit up, "Master Malfoy does this all the time to fool us! It means….it means…Y-A-G! It's code for something! Well we're on to you," He started screaming at Snape, "WE KNOW ABOUT YAG!" Then he started throwing things about the room, mindless at who they hit.

Harry and Hermione fled from the room. Draco made to follow, but then realized that Ginny was observing the fiasco with a pleasant smile on her face. Cursing to himself, he ran back in – dodging a stool – grabbed Ginny by her bare waist and forcefully pushed her through the door. They locked the door behind them. Draco's face was white and he was shaking.

"That room is full of lunatics!"

Ginny patted him on the back, "It's ok, Draco, we understand."

Draco glanced down at her, confused.

"Understand what?"

She shrugged, "Chocolate!"

"And you're dumb again."

Hermione took charge of things. "Who is responsible for this?"

"Fred and George." Draco replied swiftly, while Ginny gained a nostalgic glint in her eyes at hearing the names – apparently she didn't quite remember who they were.

The four then looked back towards the potions room. They could hear Snape and Ron were both pounding on the door.

"Let us out, Harry, Draco! We love you!"

"Oh right! They're my brothers!" Ginny exclaimed proudly.

Harry made an attempt to be heroic, by pushing Hermione out of the way. Instead, she landed face first on the floor.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled out, "Who has done this to you? I WILL SAVE YOU!" Reaching down, he grabbed her in his arms and tore from the scene.

"Draco! Let us out! We _know_you're out there! We love you! We just want to know that you return our undying feelings!" There was a slight pause before Ron blurted out, "And I know where you sleep!"

Draco seemed frozen in place, and started muttering to himself.

"It's the end. I never thought it would end like this. Oh God, no…no. It can't end like this. I'm too young…too young." Draco started sobbing into Ginny's bare shoulder.

"Malfoy!" She shrieked, "Get off of me!"

"You are _so_bipolar!" He mumbled, somewhat grateful that her fleeting intelligence seemed to have returned – for the time being anyway.

The shouts rang out from the potions door once more, and Ginny paled.

"What are you still doing here?" She hissed out, grabbing his hand. The two fled from the room just as the door collapsed underneath the two recently joined Siamese twins. Draco let out a bloodcurdling yell as he realized the sounds of pursuit had begun.


	5. Chapter Four: Divine Chastisement

**Chapter Four: Divine Chastisement (or, The Woes of Harry Potter)**

_.428 Weeks later…_

"Guilty." The gavel swung down upon the podium with a resounding _thunk_ and Lavender Brown, weeping, was dragged from the room by Seamus. Harry leaned back on his cushioned throne, turning his head slightly to accept the slice of pumpkin pie Neville had just finished taste-testing for him. He was only offered a single crumb to taste-test. The meal could not be overly tainted by the unworthy hands of a _mortal_.

Within the antechamber of Harry Potter's private office, tensions were high. Spectators stood in a jumbled mess of witnesses at ground level, just in front of the door. Or, rather, the frame of a door. The door itself only appeared when it heard the call of its master: Harry Potter.

Before them, a scarlet carpet ran up through the center of the room, climbing up a lengthy series of narrow steps that reached some fourteen feet into the air. At their height, a massive, intricately carved seat hewn from the wall itself and projecting over the stairs and room, hung. It was gargantuan, some eight feet in length, and was encased in gold leafing with ruby colored pillows littering the dais of the throne. The single light source of the room, a flame bereft of holder or torch, hovered upon the throne. It only lit the room when Harry sat upon the golden throne.

At that moment, Harry had twisted over into a complicated series of tangled limbs and pillows, lying on his stomach (still on the throne) and resting his chin on his hands as he surveyed Hermione. Hermione was a few inches to the right of the throne, on the overhanging balcony that could still survey those commoners beneath Harry and herself. She held a massive, jewel encrusted tome in her left hand. In her right, she held a golden scepter some six inches long. She sat upon a hovering cushion, clouds curling in about her and Harry. Harry, still watching her, ate some of the pie Neville had proven safe and then twisted deftly once more, looking back to the stairs. Neville was still crouched midway up the stairs, testing the next platter of food Dobby the house elf presented to him.

"_Next_," Harry called, sounding bored. His eyes were half-closed.

The door materialized behind the mob of spectators. Ginny, caught in the midst of this crowd, was shoved ruthlessly aside by Dean. She fell in a mess on the floor and was nearly trampled by the maddened gait of Seamus and Dean as they carted in a particularly wild haired woman with enormous glasses. Ginny, still crawling on all fours, was kicked a few times before she managed to latch onto the nearest leg she found. She pulled herself up the length of the black panted leg before she saw that it was Draco glaring down at her from above.

"I should have known," he announced scathingly. He gave his leg a shake, as if ridding it of an unwanted and overeager dog, and she fell backwards.

"Sybil Trelawney," Dean announced, bowing before the stairs. Ginny, peering forward, could see the silhouette of the Divination professor. On the throne, Harry groaned and rolled about pitiably.

"Of course," he shuddered, his eyes closed, "it would be _her_." He groaned again, rolling over onto his stomach, and held his hand out to Hermione. She handed the scepter to him swiftly, narrowing her eyes as she looked down upon the unfortunate professor. Harry took the scepter and it instantaneously burst into flame on either end. He did not appear greatly concerned. Beside him, Hermione stood from her hovering cushion and moved to the stairs, holding the bejeweled tome out in both her hands as if it were some sacred thing.

She stopped some three or so steps above the weeping professor, holding the book out for her imperiously.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you Harry Potter?" she demanded. Then she paused, eyeing Trelawney sternly even as the professor, sniffling, made to place her right hand upon the offered book. "You do remember that you are swearing on _Harry Potter: The God, The Life, The Legend_?"

Trelawney inhaled sharply, paling, and then nodded her head up and down. "I do swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me Harry Potter."

Hermione snatched the bejeweled tome from Trelawney's clinging hands. "Good." She turned, giving the professor a stinging glance, and then ascended the stairs (side-stepping Neville's crouching form) to take her place on the floating cushion beside Harry's throne. Harry, now positioned on his back and staring up at the ceiling, it was a mirror reflecting himself, was playing with his scepter.

"The charges…" he drawled, unconcerned with the proceedings.

"Sybil Trelawney, professor employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as divination instructor, is hereby charged with being a witch," Hermione announced austerely. There was a collective gasp throughout the antechamber to Harry's offices. Harry, playing with his scepter on his throne, froze. Then he gasped, paling, and flung himself over onto his side, glaring down at the unfortunate woman.

"A _witch_?" Trelawney burst into tears, sobbing into her hands. Harry's face grew all the more indignant. "_Who do you think you are_? This is my school, damn you! I am the _only_ one here with magical merit!" His face started to flame red. Beside him, Hermione waved her wand silently, and a cool breeze started to blow in his direction. On the stairs, Neville was magicking another plate of food deemed acceptable for Harry up to the throne. Several people were dictating their quills to take notes on the proceedings. Harry smiled at their fervor, before rounding vindictively on Trelawney once more. He seemed to be working himself into a fit of rage.

"How _dare_ you show your unholy, sinful, hag-like features at this, _Hogwarts_ of all places? Did you expect to be welcomed? Did you expect us to hide you away – shield you from your crimes? How dare you taint this room with your sin – with your iniquity?" he was nearly puce now. "_Witches are not to be tolerated at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_!"

Trelawney burst into tears again, nodding her head up and down vigorously. "I understand! I'll stop. It will never happen again."

Harry, seeming pleased, abruptly leaned back on his throne. His cheeks were still somewhat red. "You swore to stop _last_ time charges were raised," he drawled, flicking his hand somewhat. He was playing with his scepter again.

"_The twenty-first of February, Sybil Trelawney swears to stop practicing witchcraft and is sentenced to acting like a hobo for a fortnight in the Muggle world_," Hermione read, rolling up the scroll she had summoned from thin air. It disappeared with a flick of her wand. Harry nodded at her, smiling, and then peered back toward Trelawney with a cracked eye.

"I hereby sentence you to chasing down a Charizard for Hagrid's menagerie. If you have not accomplished this within seventy-two days, you will be brought before Us again." He flipped his hand dismissively, motioning for Trelawney to depart. He looked back up toward the mirror on the ceiling. Trelawney nodded and turned, her back to Harry, and started toward the door which had once more materialized. Harry was up in an instant, his face flaming again.

"_Hag! You _dare _turn your back on me!_" His voice was shrill, a wild scream of indignant rage. "_Why you-!_" He swore and, flinging his palm against a pillow, the tiny fleck of a scar burned white on his brow. There was a blast of light and sound. Someone shrieked from the audience, but Trelawney had already vanished. The lightning strike left nothing but a pile of fine dust on the flagstones. Harry leaned back against the throne calmly, folding his hands in his lap. He watched them all silently. Seamus cleared his throat, turning to look out over the crowd.

"Yeh have witnessed what will happ'n teh any tha'dare turn their bahks 'pon our laird, 'Arry Potter."

Harry twitched and then kicked out sharply with his foot, striking nothing but air. He paused. "I have kicked your head, henchman."

Seamus winced, swearing, and grabbed at his untouched head, murmuring of the shame he brought his Irish clan. Their harvest of Lucky Charms would be poor this year. Harry nodded approvingly.

"I am your _god_."

Seamus looked back to the crowd. "Teh our god, 'Arry Potter." He spread out his arms commandingly. "Geh! Geh forth an' tell the wairld of all tha'ye 'ave seen this day."

There were murmurs throughout the crowd even as Harry called for the next trial to begin. Ginny, crammed in between Draco and Colin, turned animatedly in the brief lull between sentences toward the Creevey boy. Draco gave Colin a death glare as soon as Ginny's back was turned.

"So, like this morning," she was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a black owl swooping in toward Colin. He grabbed at the letter attached to its claws, turning it over inquisitively between his fingers. Behind Ginny, Draco was frowning.

"Is that my owl…?"

Ginny and Colin ignored him. Colin had seen the name, in crude English, and looked over toward Ginny. "It's from you?"

Ginny was still talking about how she had kicked Mrs. Norris into a pit that morning. Then the cat had proceeded to drag her in.

Colin wasn't listening. His face had crumpled moments after he'd opened the letter, and his chin was trembling. He started to hiccup, struggling to breathe, and looked over toward Ginny, tears streaming down his face.

"You're breaking up with me?" Draco burst out laughing, doubling over and holding his sides. Colin didn't wait long enough for Ginny to answer. "And you didn't even spell my name right!" He flung the letter in her face, but missed since he was blinded from crying, and tore from the room. Ginny looked over toward Draco after a brief moment of shock.

"I was like talking to him! That was so rude…" she paused, defaulting to playing with her hair as she thought this over. Then she blinked and shrugged, grinning. She looked back to Draco. "So anyways, I was like fighting Mrs. Norris in the pit."

The door opened at Harry's call, and none other than Ron Weasley was pulled in by Dean and Seamus. Snape was still attached to Ron. Ginny laughed, muttering to Draco,

"I'd hate to be related to _him_," she gave Ron a meaningful glance as he was dragged by, "that'd be so embara … embaras … so like – not … so like ugly!"

Ron and Snape were flung forward to the foot of the stairs. They were both in nothing but their boxers, but Harry emitted a horrified shriek and fell back against the cushioned throne, shielding his eyes. Hermione magicked in a robe to shroud their unsightly forms with and Harry recovered somewhat, though still a little out of breath.

"_Charges_," Harry gasped, still taken aback from the sight as he leaned back against the cushions.

"Ronald Weasley, student and employed ginger minion of Harry Potter, and Sev-!"

"No!" Harry interrupted, quite suddenly as he rounded on Hermione. "Don't even _read_ them to me!" He looked back to Ron and Snape with narrowed eyes. "We all know their treachery. To _dare_ to…" he shuddered, revulsion sweeping him. "I am your god, minion!" He glared mutinously down at the offending duo. "I am above you!"

There was silence, as neither Ron nor Snape seemed to have anything to say. Harry snapped his fingers and Hermione proceeded to read from the materializing scroll.

"Witness Draco Malfoy states that the defendants," she gave Snape and Ron a condescending eye, "attempted to physically and verbally assault the incarnate deity Harry Potter in the dungeons seventy-two hours past. Harry Potter was forced to flee for his safety and narrowly escaped. Draco Malfoy, courageously offering himself up as a distraction so that our master Harry Potter could escape, barely made it out with his sanity." She closed the scroll with a decisive _snap_, casting Ron and Severus a withering glance.

Ron seemed to regain use of his words at this point. At Hermione's announcement, he turned scarlet, a rebellious glare starting up on his features, but he held his tongue.

"How do you plea to these charges?" Hermione's voice was brisk.

"Innocent!" Ron's voice shook slightly. Next to him, Snape looked equally affronted. Hermione raised her eyebrows. She glanced to Harry, but Harry would not deign to grace Ron and Snape with more of his dulcet tones. Hermione took the lead, clearing her throat.

"Do elaborate."

Ron glanced sideways, scanning for a friendly face. At length he settled on Harry, though his master would not look at him.

"I would never fancy …" he choked slightly, unable to say the words, "fancy _Malfoy_ it's just – THE WEASLEY BY-LAWS!" Ron suddenly screamed out, as if this bit of information vindicated him.

Harry gasped theatrically, he understood. Deeming that his limited view of the defendant – the one he gained from his mirror – was insufficient, he jumped up to a perched position upon the armrest. He rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his chin, rubbing his two fingers against it thoughtfully.

"The Weasley By-Laws set about by our lord and master Harry Potter – I would never…never _dare _to go against them. I couldn't it just…" Ron trailed off, growing pale at the prospect of some unseen terror.

Harry nodded slightly, but turned to Hermione for confirmation.

"I set about these laws: never in his right mind could he _ever _disobey them…he is my minion; he has sworn to me."

Ron breathed a giddy sigh of relief at Harry's words. Hermione, still under close scrutiny from Harry, appeared to think on his words. She scanned the still attached forms of Ron and Snape. Snape was still rigid; there were no by-laws to save him. Harry looked back to the two as well.

"The ginger minion has always served me well. He was a far better henchman than these," his eyes flitted briefly to Dean and Seamus and they gulped, "and might one day rise to pet." Neville, who was still testing crumbs of food, choked at this. Harry looked back to Ron and Snape. "He would never dare disobey me. But you…" his voice grew accusatory once more.

"Am just as _repulsed _as you!" Snape answered, his face growing red. He made to turn about and see if there was any sympathy for him in the crowd. But as he did so, Ron, who was still attached to him, swung about awkwardly and smacked him full on in the back. Snape was sent flying to the ground, face on the wood floor. He groaned painfully as Ron let out a giggle of excitement from atop him.

"Fun!" He clapped his hands together. "Do it again!"

"Honestly," Snape let out an irritated gasp from beneath Ron, "being attached to this oaf is punishment enough."

Harry turned to Hermione and the two conversed in hushed tones. A moment later they separated and Harry had gained a judicious look on his features.

"It has come to my attention that their minds – along with their bodies – have been tampered with. They are clearly the victims of some crime…" He paused, eyeing the crowd at large, "does anyone have any information concerning this?"

He was met by stunned silence – no one could believe the unadulterated view they had gained of his face.

"Very well!" Harry clapped his hands together, eager to be done with the matter. "You two shall still be punished of course. Snape – you are to purchase a hair re-growth system," He stopped to survey the bald man beneath him and motioned carelessly to him, "since I am to assume magic cannot fix…_that_. And then you are to take a bubble bath every day for the next month –"

Snape gave a cry in agony and fell to the floor beneath Harry's feet, dragging Ron down with him.

Harry continued as if nothing had happened, "There will be inspectors, of course, to make sure forgery of your bathing is not committed. As to the minion, he shall be forced to feed, pet and otherwise tend to the whims of our most divine companion, Hedwig."

At this, all eyes flew to Harry's shoulder where – unnoticed before – his snow white bird was perched. Hedwig eyed them all haughtily, saving a particularly vicious glare for Ron, its new caretaker. It raised a claw threateningly in Ron's direction, opening its beak.

"Bitch, I will cut you!" Hedwig's shriek reverberated through the room. Harry shifted slightly. No one but Ron noticed the outburst from the now suddenly speaking bird. Hedwig's eyes flared. They seemed almost scarlet in the barely lit room. Ron took in one more glance of the demon bird, let out a weak sigh and collapsed to the ground.

It was then that Snape looked down towards the ginger minion, and realized that they were no longer attached. He laughed joyously, jumping up and down. Then Dean and Seamus coughed. Seamus struck Snape across the back of the head.

"You do not _laugh_ in the presence of Harry Potter," Dean hissed.

On his throne, Harry's eyes narrowed. "Two months."

Snape's eyes rolled upwards and his legs gave out and he joined Ron on the floor. Dean and Seamus wordlessly levitated the two out of the room as the door opened on Harry's encouragement.

Harry sighed in exasperation and collapsed back on his throne, propping his back up against one of the massive armrests.

"Who else has dared to defile the word I have set about in _Harry Potter: The God, The Life, The Legend?_"

He was greeted by the adoring gasps of a collection of girls who had dared to stare at Harry for more than their allotted thirty seconds, as they were dragged in.

"Ugh – you _vultures _again. I understand that you are human, and therefore fallible: never before have you seen such perfection incarnate. Well," Harry motioned towards himself again, sighing in mock exasperation, "here I am…Now get out of my sight."

Just as his henchmen were about to remove the gaggle of girls from the room Harry cut through.

"Oh and you shall have incurable acne for a week – yes, yes I know. It was _entirely _worth it," Harry drawled on, "But hopefully you will not again be so tempted to stare at me for more than the permitted thirty seconds." Harry then made shooing gestures and collapsed back to the throne.

"All of you – get out. I am done today."

_452 minutes and thirty-four seconds later…_

Draco groaned loudly as the sight of Hagrid's hut greeted them. He stopped walking altogether. Ginny didn't notice (or if she did, she had simply forgotten how to make her limbs stop walking) and crashed into him. Draco, who had stopped three times already as his doom neared, was accustomed to this and caught her by the arm before she'd quite managed to fall in a tangled mess on the grass.

Ron was still walking ahead of them swiftly, Hedwig perched on his shoulder. He was crying silently, which was why he insisted on walking ahead of them. He didn't want them to see. But it didn't stop Hedwig from hissing in his ear. It didn't stop the _threats_.

Harry Potter had sentenced Ron to tending for Hedwig, but it soon became apparent that Ron was suffering from some paranoia of owls and counseling was the only option. Hagrid, the only animal expert within leagues, was the obvious choice. But Harry had to be sure his minion would reach Hagrid's hut without breaking down altogether from the fear of Hedwig. So he had ordered Draco to attend to the matter. Draco was the only one he could trust, seeing as Draco was the only other who suffered from the same fear Harry did: homophobia.

Cursing again, Draco started after Ron and Hedwig, glowering in the direction of The Wild Thing's hut. Ginny skipped after him, humming to herself. She tripped on a clump of grass and slammed into Draco's knee. He stopped, rolling his eyes, and wrenched her up by the arm. Ginny had already recovered from the fall. In fact, she had already started to talk even as she fell.

"So are you like … like _sure_ that I have to come too?"

Draco pulled her to her feet, directing her in the path Ron had taken. She started skipping again. "Yes. Quite."

Draco had lied to Ginny.

But he'd hardly had a choice. Harry Potter had said he had to go with Ron. It wasn't his fault he didn't want to traipse off to The Wild Thing's with nothing but a ginger minion and an owl. So he'd decided Ginny would have to come too, seeing as she was the ape's sister and all. Furthermore, they still had to plan their revenge on Fred and George (it was obvious to Draco that Ron's being temporarily turned homosexual and then bisexual was meant to torment and threaten him, the only homophobic Malfoy in the whole of Britain).

This time Ginny tripped on some weeds. Draco almost didn't bother to help her up. Then he decided it would be counter-effective, since she probably couldn't get up by herself and he'd lied to get her to come and all. He yanked her up to her feet again. Ginny beamed at him, snaking her arm around his neck.

"Like, thanks!"

He pushed her hand away from his head roughly, grunting in answer. Ron had broken down on the path in front of them, stopping in front of the pumpkin patch. He was crying inconsolably. Hedwig crawled up his neck, he screamed, and then sat upon the very top of his head. She blinked.

"The… _the bird says she's going to eat me_!" Ron choked, tears streaming down his face.

"Hell, it's like I'm babysitting two year-olds!" Draco spat, glaring between the two Weasleys. "Together, you have just about enough of a brain to drool!"

The sound of a window opening made them all turn. A porthole had been cracked open and a monstrous clod of ragged hair materialized in the window.

"Oy! Stop tha' howlin' an get in here!" the matted hair disappeared, drawing back into the confines of its smoking lair. Draco winced.

"It's even worse than I imagined," he managed to croak in the wake of the Wild Thing's presence. He then proceeded to beg to be released of his duty muttering over and over, "I don't want to know where the wild things are. I don't want to know where the wild things are…I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!" He was screaming now, and frozen in place.

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy!" It was a distinctly feminine voice. Draco stopped wailing and whirled around to face Ginny. She was glaring at him.

"I'm sorry – do you have a brain again? You know you can't expect me to keep up with your intelligence rollercoaster."

"Excuse me? This coming from the _man _who was just wailing up to the Heavens?"

"Aghhhh! No! _No! _I don't want to become owl pellets!" Ron sought to wrest the bird from his head and throw her into the surrounding pumpkins. He didn't succeed. Hedwig dug her claws further into his scalp and he let out another agonized scream.

"You _evil _she-witch!"

"You know Ron, she's not a person," Ginny cut in. Ron turned about.

"Who said that?"

"I did." Ginny answered him indignantly.

Ron snorted at this, "No. No you didn't." He started shaking his head – owl and all – at her confession.

A monstrous rumble sounded from within the smoking lair of the Wild Thing.

Draco cringed as Ginny forcibly pushed him towards said hut. Ron strutted in first, leading the procession. As they reached the first of the two-step-stairs the door abruptly swung open. A stomach-wrenching scent enveloped them and Draco gagged, leaning towards the garden. It took Ginny a while to find the face buried within the massive bush of hair of the half-giant.

"Oi! Who sed yeh could com'in wi'out me pokemon cards, eh?"

"Oh, hell – it _talks _now? What travesty is this?" He turned accusatorily to Ginny. "I suppose your brothers had something to do with this. Wild things do not talk."

The owl atop Ron's head blinked steadily at the Wild Thing and moved Ron forward – like a pawn would be sent to its doom upon a chess board.

"Ah-ah! No. Yeh mus' giv' meh th'cards. Ehh," It pointed one massive finger towards its blockish palm.

"Bloody hell!" Draco whirled about, glaring up at Hagrid. "_What cards!_"

The Wild Thing blinked back at Draco, unaffected by his screaming. It was several moments before it spoke.

"Did yeh say som'thin'? Yeh gottuh speak up!" It cupped a massive hand over what Draco assumed was its ear.

Draco sighed miserably. "Let me get this straight: It can talk but it can't, oh I don't know," Draco cast about himself as if looking for an answer, "_understand SIMPLE – ENGLISH."_

There was a brief pause. Hagrid blinked once more.

"Did yeh say som'thin'? Yeh gottuh speak up!" He repeated himself.

"Oh fuck," Draco straightened and coughed in preparation. "DO YOU," He pointed towards Hagrid and then stopped. He shook his head and spoke again, louder than before, "WHAT BLOODY CARDS!"

Hagrid smiled upon understanding, "Ah, I see! Pokemon cards, a'course."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Ginny. "You – muggle lover. What are these _Pokemon cards?_"

Ginny stared at him. Draco groaned in exasperation; she always chose the least opportune moments to lose her brain.

"Stay here," he commanded her very slowly. He flicked his eyes back to the Wild Thing and very slowly started backing away. He was overly conscious of the Wild Thing's beady eyes watching his every step. Nevertheless he continued to move, silently, towards the center of the pumpkin patch and the side of its lair.

Without warning, his foot caught on something and he landed on his back in the pumpkin patch. He swore quite loudly and turned, searching for the source of his fall.

"Bloody hell – I thought I told you to _stay there._" Ginny's eyes took him in with a glazed manner. Draco rolled his eyes skyward, praying to the real – non Harry Potter – God for patience.

After he had successfully disentangled himself, and Ginny, from the pumpkin vines he turned back to face her.

"Okay, you," Draco pointed at Ginny, "stay," he motioned with his hands to stay, "_here_." Draco pointed at the ground they stood on. "Understand?"

Ginny nodded eagerly at Draco. "Doh!"

Draco allowed himself a proud smile – it wasn't everyday that you taught a whore a new trick. "Good – now _stay_."

Draco made it several more feet before he turned around again only to find Ginny had followed him once more with a puppy-like allegiance. It took him several moments to find a calming breath and keep from screaming at her. He opened his mouth to order her behind again, but, thinking better of it, he shut his mouth and continued on: he had thought of a better use for her.

They stopped when they reached the window on the side of Hagrid's hut. Draco glanced up towards the window which was several feet above him. Pulling his wand out from his robes he muttered a quick spell directed at a nearby pumpkin and dropped it right in front of the window. He used Ginny as a stool to climb up on the monstrous pumpkin, and from there, into the window.

He entered Hagrid's hut with a loud crash as he landed on a table placed directly underneath it. Groaning from the impact, Draco pushed himself from the humongous table and tried to ignore the slime which clung to his hands. He wiped them clean on his robes and quickly scanned the hut. His eyes swept passed the half-monster-half-human who was still guarding the doorway with his enormous frame and then landed on what he was searching for. There, on a circular table in the center of the room were several, inch-thick piles of blue-backed cards labeled clearly in a yellow font: Pokemon.

Draco scrabbled over towards the table, fervently praying that the noxious fumes he was inhaling weren't toxic. He grabbed at several cards from each of the piles and pocketed them, hopping neatly from the window, where he had guessed the pumpkin he had left there earlier would be. It wasn't. Loosing a curse, Draco whirled about to find who he assumed was the culprit: Ginny.

She was waving her wand about and the pumpkin was circling about the skies, in sync with her wand.

"You dumb whore," Draco muttered to himself, still attempting to regain the proper composure of a _Malfoy_. Upon seeing Draco, Ginny dropped her wand so she could wave at Draco with both of her hands. The pumpkin crashed to the earth with a resounding _smash _and sent its orange guts flying everywhere, covering both Draco, Ginny, and half of the Wild Thing's hut. Draco rent a roar of frustration at her stupidity and immediately went upon cleansing both of them.

When the pair finally walked backed into view of the Wild Thing, its eyes followed them both steadily: taking in every detail.

"Well?" It prompted gruffly.

"We have your cards," Draco responded, suddenly exhausted.

"Do yeh now?" It opened its hands for confirmation. "Two each."

Draco rolled his grey eyes upward, but produced six cards from his pocket and slammed them forcibly into the half-giant's hand.

Hagrid frowned, after taking several minutes to count out each card – and restarting several times. He looked back up and counted everyone in front of him. "Owl counts."

"_Of course it does_," Despite his best efforts to keep his voice calm, his annoyance was quite evident. Draco shoveled out two more cards. Hagrid's face instantly lit up as he examined the cards eagerly. His face fell as he realized they were worthless but he motioned for them to come in anyway.

"A'right then. Com'un in!" the Wild Thing moved aside to allow the group a civilized entry. "Duhn'yeh ferget ta wipe yer paws off'un th'mat, now," Hagrid called back to them. Draco almost voiced his question as to how a _Malfoy's _feet could _possibly _be considered paws, but taking another glance around the Wild Thing's hut he shut his mouth. He wondered vaguely as to how he had overlooked the numerous creatures lounging about the single-room hut but arrived at the conclusion that they only came out for their master.

It took every masculine bone in Draco's body not to let out a girlish screech as a monstrous spider jumped down from the ceiling and landed right where he was about to place his foot. Draco gulped as it eyed him with every last one of its eight eyes. Draco was in the act of shoving Ginny between himself and the spider when it scuttled off to lurk in some obscure corner.

"Now … why wer yeh all comen down here, anyway?" The Wild Thing muttered, shuffling over toward the wall. It started to stroke it. It took Draco a moment to notice that the wall was shuddering and making strange noises as Hagrid cooed to it. A plant had grown into the place in the wall where the Wild Thing was petting. Draco couldn't discern between what was wall and what was plant being.

Draco glanced toward Ron. The ginger minion's face was horror-stricken, a terrified glint in his eyes, and he stood frozen in the center of the room. Both his hands were raised above his head, petting Hedwig over and over. He stared unblinkingly back at Draco, the horror evident in his face.

"I – have – no – _control_ – of – my – body!" he managed between gritted teeth.

Draco was unsure what to make of this. He glanced toward Hedwig, who surveyed him innocently. Hagrid was still talking to the wall. Ginny tripped on something and fell in the corner. There was a crash as some pottery broke.

Draco rolled his eyes, glancing back toward Ginny. She was pulling herself up (he was surprised she remembered how) from the tangled vines of some sort of overgrown plant.

"Potter wants you to counsel that," Draco motioned vaguely toward Ron as he turned to eye the Wild Thing stroking the wall, "because it's got this phobia of owl-a_argh_!" he swore, shrieking madly, and dropped to the floor, shielding his face with his arms and clutching his hair.

Something had swung toward him. Something _winged_. Something had dropped down from the ceiling and _touched _him. He shrieked again, swearing with every exhaled breath, and rocked back and forth on the dirty floor amid who knew what. He was cursing incoherently. He couldn't think. It looked like a dragon. It looked like _McGonagall_. No. No, it had been smaller. It was thinner. It had a longer head. It had shrieked. It had _wings_. He swore again, still clutching his hair.

It was a pterodactyl. It was a fucking pterodactyl. The Wild Thing had an _extinct dinosaur_ in its lair.

Slowly, he lowered his arms from his head, glancing about the lair, cautiously. There was no sign of either beast. Damnit, the Wild Thing was gone – he'd let it get away.

He pushed up off the floor, realizing that it had been a few minutes since his breakdown had commenced. He looked between Ron and Ginny. Both were staring at him. Even Hedwig, momentarily releasing her demonic hold on Ron's head, had turned to spare him a horrified glance.

"What?" He snapped viciously, "It was attacking me!"

There was an awkward silence. Then Ginny spoke,

"No, it wasn't."

Draco narrowed his eyes in her direction. Draco hated smart Ginny.

"Go hit your head against a wall, Seven." Draco shoved himself from the floor, and allowed a giddy smile at the thought of the wall-creature attacking stupid, _smart _Ginny.

"I am _not _a number!" She shrieked to him. Draco rolled his eyes at this absurdity, and favored her with indifferent silence.

"Where'd it run off to?" He questioned, glancing once more about the room – as if Hagrid would materialize from the strange liquid-goo dripping off the table…or perhaps the circular pink fluff-ball rolling about on the floor.

"It flew off after you started attacking it," Ginny informed him menacingly.

Draco blinked several times before he understood. Then he started laughing. "No, no. I meant _it_…You know? The hairy monster that lives in here."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, "His name is Hagrid and he went off to –"

She was interrupted by a loud cracking noise as Harry Potter, in the flesh, and Hermione Granger appeared on the table in the center of the hut. There was a stunned silence before Ron collapsed to the floor, head bowed and murmured over and over "master…master". Hedwig released her claws from Ron's head and flew over to her rightful owner.

"How did you apparate in here? Isn't there a law or –" Draco began.

"I am _Harry Potter_! No law restricts," Harry's hand motioned from his head down to his feet, "godly beings such as myself." He then hopped from the table as if this were an everyday activity. He offered Hermione a hand down.

"Now," Harry's voice rang imperiously throughout the hut which Draco was sure was entirely alive, "I am sure you are all wondering as to why I would grace such depravity with my godliness. I have decided it would be best if supervised my minion's counseling personally so I can better – where's Hagrid?"

Ginny piped up. "He went off to the forbidden forest to get…like…STUFF…for Ron's counseling."

Harry narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the room. "…_Ron_?"

Draco lazily pointed towards the prostrate ginger on the floor, who was still bowing up and down. Draco amused himself by pretending Ron was saying "Allah" instead of "Master".

"I'm bored," Ginny announced after several seconds. She cast her eyes about the room and as she did so unbuttoned more of her shirt. Draco rolled his eyes as he saw her bra. "Oooh! Poker cards!" Ginny pranced over towards the table with cards clearly labeled 'Pokemon' on them. She turned around to face everyone with several cards splayed out in her hands and a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Three words: Strip. Poker."

Draco snorted – more from her ridiculous idea than her counting skills. He expected everyone else to laugh along with him, and was quite disturbed when they didn't.

Harry lifted an imperious eyebrow before launching into his drawl, "_Of course _you would suggest this the minute I, a god in human form, arrive. You could attempt _some _subtlety next time. You know, two minutes," Harry sighed dramatically. "Well today is the best day of your life," He informed her simply, "I, the great Harry Potter, am going to play…" Harry looked around carefully to make sure they were _truly _the only ones there. His voice dropped so low that it was barely audible, "_strip poker_."

"Why do you want to play strip poker?" Hermione asked.

"OH MY GOD – STOP ASKING ME ALL THESE QUESTIONS, YOU CRAZY BITCH! IT HAS nothing TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT YOU MIGHT END UP WITH NO CLOTHES ON! Why would you even _suggest_ that. YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS HER," At this, Harry pointed at Ginny who had just finished entirely unbuttoning her shirt. Draco made a mental note to buy her undershirts next time. "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE SILENT AS YOU STARE AT ME IN AWE? MUST YOU GET INSIDE MY HEAD! MUST YOU FORCE ENTRY INTO MY FINAL SANCTUM! I AM A _GOD, _DAMNIT! RESPECT ME AS SUCH!" By the time Harry finished his outburst he was entirely red in the face.

Hermione, used to outbursts such as these when she asked simple questions, was unaffected. She simply sat down and placed her book on one of the few clean counters.

"The flaw in the suggestion is that these are not, in fact, the proper sort of recreational cards. These are _Pokemon _cards." She flipped one over to prove her point, and revealed a frightened looking Evee which immediately hid from its picture.

"IT DOESN'T MATTER, I AM MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE! YOU THINK MY PLANS WILL BE FOILED BY THE SIMPLE ISSUE OF _PRINT _ON MERE CARDS! I AM AN ALMIGHTY BEING!" To further his point, Harry ripped one of the cards in half and stamped his foot on the table he had somehow found his way back on top of. "WE WILL PLAY, DAMNIT. SIT DOWN, AND GET READY TO PLAY! MINION," His voice abruptly returned to normal, calm, _mortal _tones, "deal the cards."

Harry sat down next to Hermione, after glaring viciously at Ron who had started towards that same spot. Once he sat down Hermione started rearranging his hair because it "always got messed up when he finished his tirades".

Ginny was the first one to lose a piece of her clothing. No one was overly surprised.

"Awww, I lost a card," Ginny pouted for not even a second. She then brightened up shouting, "Oh well!" before ripping her already unbuttoned shirt off.

Draco glowered over at her. "You have jewelry on! Socks, shoes! Is there a reason you took off your shirt first?"

"Why do you care?" Ginny snapped at him. "You _are _gay!"

Harry immediately froze, his eyes locking on Draco. He paled suddenly and pushed himself back, falling from his seat.

"Oh come on!" Draco cried out exasperatedly. "You _saw _me kissing Ginny!"

At this Harry immediately stopped his twisting and whining on the floor, got up and sat back down. Again, he pretended as if he threw no tantrum.

"Next," He looked pointedly over at Hermione. She placed down a Bulbasaur with a smirk on her face. Ron groaned in annoyance and wordlessly threw off his shirt. Harry stopped and looked over at Ron, shaking his head.

"No – no, put it back on. I'm not taking my chances with you." Ron gratefully shrugged his shirt back on.

Several turns later found Ginny in her shorts – surprisingly – her bra, and one sock. She had taken Draco's advice and there was a pile of jewelry next to her: the girl was absolutely terrible at strip poker.

"You're up next, Harry," Hermione commented in a quiet voice. Harry rounded on her.

"YES I KNOW I'M NEXT, WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING HERE! YOU KNOW, I BET YOU'RE CHEATING! YOU HAVEN'T LOST ONE PIECE OF CLOTHING. NOT EVEN AN EARRING – THIS IS ALL SOME ELABORATE SCHEME YOU HAVE ALL CONCOCTED TO SEE ME WITHOUT ANY CLOTHES ON!" Harry ground his teeth together in frustration and took off his pants, leaving him with a single piece of clothing left: his boxers.

Hermione allowed a small smug smile before turning serious and focusing her eyes on Draco, whose turn it was. Draco placed down a Zaptos with a triumphant grin.

"And it's holographic," He announced. Then it was Ginny's turn. She slammed down a white card with a picture of a familiar pink-fluffy ball on it, labeled _Jigglypuff. _Draco searched about the room for the pink creature he'd noticed before. It had stopped rolling about and was watching them all with wide, innocent aquamarine eyes.

"Of course you would remember how to take _off _your clothes," Draco commented dryly.

Ginny shrugged at her loss, ignoring him, and placed her remaining cards face-up on the table. As Draco looked at them he stopped suddenly. She had _several _cards that were much better than a common Jigglypuff. In fact, the Jigglypuff was the _only _common one in the pile. There were two Riachus, a Flareon, and several holographic cards. Ginny was cheating: she was purposefully stripping off her clothes.

Shrugging at her loss, Ginny reached for her shorts.

"Tell me you're wearing underwear," Draco hissed, raising an eyebrow at her. He didn't appreciate Ginny stripping down in front of Harry – even though he was clearly smitten with Hermione.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, leaning over to Draco as she whispered, "You'll just have to find out."

Draco was about to protest as she stripped off her clothes but stopped, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw that she had put on underwear.

"I can't believe you cheated," He spat out to her. Ginny stared innocently up at him.

"I have _no _idea what you're talking about."

Draco couldn't tell if this was the smart or dumb Ginny. He took in one more glance of her lack of clothes and settled on the dumb one.

"Wha's goin' on in 'ere?" The Wild Thing had returned, unnoticed by the barely-clad – excluding Hermione – group of teenagers. He dropped whatever he was holding as he took in Ginny. The thing on the floor squealed in protest at being dropped.

"Yer hide is showin'!" Hagrid cried out to Ginny indignantly, shielding his eyes. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"My _hide_?"

"Why don't yeh take yer paws'n put yer fur back on, Fox?" It questioned Ginny from beneath its block hand.

"Fox?" She repeated questioningly.

"Yeah! Why don' you tell 'er t'put er 'ide back on, Sloth? She do be yer litter mate, don't she?" He was talking to Ron.

"He thinks _we're _animals," Draco surmised, suddenly offended.

"Wha' was'tha, Peacock?" Hagrid questioned, turning to the supposedly muffled voice of Draco.

"Peacock!" Draco rose from his seat. "Listen here you huge, hairy –"

"We should go," Ginny said suddenly. She had apparently managed to put her clothes back on while Hagrid was busy christening them with animal names. She grabbed hold of Draco's arm and dragged him from the hut and though Draco would never admit it to either Ginny, he was grateful for the escape.

"What was that for?" He demanded of her once they were out of earshot.

But stupid Ginny was gone now, and replaced by her was a dangerous Ginny with a devilish grin playing about her lips.

"I've just thought of something – something to get back at Fred and George."

Draco's expression brightened. "What?"

"It's going to require us getting into the Restricted Section of the library and reading up on a spell I heard about once."

The doubt cleared from Draco's face upon hearing the words 'Restricted' 'Section' and 'Library'. He was about to voice his agreement but was interrupted by the iron-hard grip which clasped around his arm, dragging him off to Hogwarts at a maddened pace that could only be driven by revenge.

**A/N: **

**To Firemnwnb: I've decided to make some major changes in characters and plot. I hope that this will make it funnier and more enjoyable in the long run and it will also make more sense (seeing as I wrote this around the age of thirteen the first time).**


	6. Chapter Five: Restricted Pictures

**Chapter Five: Restricted Pictures**

"Ohn yerr mahrk…" Viktor Krum's shriek reverberated through the Swedish stadium, signaling the start of the Team Minion Olympics. Every muscle in Ron's body tensed, poised for action. He peered through the bars of the cage they were suspended in, scanning the shadowy course below. It wasn't quite dawn, but he could vaguely make out another cage of the opposing team of minions: Draco's. But he wouldn't let them stop him. This was his day. All of his life had led to this one, single moment. This was what he was meant for.

"Geht sehtuh!" Viktohr was perched upon a towering structure hundreds of feet above them. The Bulgarian's cloak billowed about him in the wind from his perch so high above them. He looked distinctly like a bird in flight. Ron prided himself on his eyesight. He felt an unforgiving claw dig its way into the flesh of his scalp. Then he remembered. These were not his eyes, they were Hedwig's; Hedwig, who would never allow her master to lose. For this, Ron was grateful. A mutual understanding had temporarily risen between the two: Harry must be victor. Hedwig commanded Ron's eyes to blink as he glared down ferociously at the jungle they would soon be tearing through.

"Arieluma!" Ron made out Seamus's distinctly Irish voice from behind him. He was creating charms for the team. There was a bright blue flash around them as he created another charm. He wordlessly passed it to Ron who hung it about his neck. "Azphelumbra! Nezekaine! Trinielle!" Seamus continued layering several good luck charms customized for each member of their group.

Dean was finishing up the African drums he had been working on. He would be a vital component of their team; he would set the pace for their maddened charge. He slowly began to beat at the drums hung about his neck.

Neville rubbed Trevor fervently, as if he were a magical lamp and a genie would appear to grant him three wishes. The toad let out an uncomfortable croak and glared unforgivably up at its master.

Everyone's nerves were high; they knew what they had to do. They had three days. They were to be dropped in the jungle several hundred feet below. In that jungle they would be plagued by temptations and fears alike, and would have to push through until they found and rescued a dummy which represented their master. After freeing him, they would escape through an obstacle course with four main components: water, fire, earth and air. Their master's dummy must survive – even if they had to sacrifice themselves. Whichever team beat the other and made it to the other side would win: assuming that their 'master' suffered no damages. Winning meant that not only would they improve their global ranking as a minion team, but they would also get a chance to move up in Harry Potter's personal rankings. Ron would achieve the coveted title of pet: of that he was sure.

"Goh!" Krum's shriek rent the air.

Suddenly the world was spinning as the bottom of the cage let out and the group was sent hurtling down to the ground several hundred feet beneath them. Ron roared in expectation, pounding his chest. His challenge transcended the howling of the wind, blasting toward the opposing group.

Hardly a moment later a thundering roar sounded from Draco's team; Millicent Bulstrode had answered the call. Ron could sense Hedwig's displeasure as he saw, through her eyes, a bird drop from the skies. It had been too close when her battle cry sounded.

With an abrupt splash, Harry's group plummeted into a swamp. It was some minutes before they managed to extricate themselves from the clinging muck. Ron pulled a dagger from his waist, jamming it between his teeth as he resolutely pulled himself onto the more solid ground. Ron's vision clouded red as he felt adrenaline pumping into his veins. He let out one more vicious, feral roar, pounding at his bare chest.

The challenge had begun.

_.142 Weeks Later…_

Harry's team of minions were all camped around a fire they had managed to scrape together themselves: magic wasn't allowed in this competition. Dean continued drumming a doleful pace as Seamus set about preparing a stew. Hedwig – through Ron – and Neville were devising a plan. They had spotted the dummy of Harry and needed to concoct a plan to successfully rescue him and carry on with their mission.

Seamus was hiccupping and shuddering even as he poured some herbs into the boiling makeshift pot. Ron was fairly sure he had fallen ill when – in a maddened craze of starvation – he had attempted to eat a toad. Seamus had almost succeeded in downing the poor, live thing before Neville viciously started attacking and kicking him; Neville had believed the toad to be Trevor. Neville believed every toad was Trevor because that was his fear: he feared his toad being devoured by a crazed Irish man. Seamus feared his lucky charms being stolen by a group of asinine children. Dean feared his people being taken from their homeland and brought to the Southern States. Ron hadn't come across his fear yet and was on more edge than any of the other group members because they had already overcome that challenge.

Hedwig pointed Ron's finger at a map that he had dug into the dirt.

"We enter through here," Ron commanded austerely, his voice half a squawk. He started hacking violently for several moments before he spit out a feather. Ron – the _real _Ron – felt his eyes bulge.

"Good," Seamus hissed, crawling forward through the mud and slime on his stomach. He used his elbows to pull himself up to Ron and the map. He'd already spread war paint beneath his eyes. "Neh who's goin' teh volunteer as suicide bombah?" He glanced meaningfully toward Neville.

Neville gulped.

"Yeh make a good size bomb. Easy teh sneak een wi'out bein' noticed. Still good explodin' radius tho'." Seamus looked back to the map in the sand, ignorant of the petrified look on Neville's face. "Bloody Brits should'a knawn bettah than' teh take me mammy's plot o' lucky charms! They goin' teh pay in blood fer wah' they ha' done!"

"How dare you?" Dean exploded. "Stop ridiculing my people!"

There was a long silence. Seamus eyed Dean.

"I thought ye'weh black."

Dean paused, considering this. "Oh right." He leaned back, resuming the beat on his drums.

Ron rounded on Seamus, Hedwig's rage channeling through him, as he viewed the Irishman. "And you, first of all, they're _trolls_ – not the British! Secondly, stop going all IRA on me – this isn't the time for bloody terrorism!"

Seamus had the decency to redden.

"Sorreh, Hedwig," He mumbled. The bird nodded vaguely in his direction through Ron and returned his gaze to Neville.

"Which one of you is the better runner?" Neville asked, looking towards the group.

"I am!" Dean piped up proudly. "It's my African blood."

"Good – you can distract the trolls while we get 'master' free."

Dean paled. "No!" He shoved Seamus forward. "I'm _far _more exotic than him!"

Seamus shrugged, "For th'greatah good." He ripped his shirt open and the group noticed a bomb was strapped to his chest. Seamus nodded encouragingly down at it, and then looked up with a huge grin plastered on his face. Ron rolled his eyes.

"No. You have to _distract _them, not blow yourself up. Idiot," Ron muttered the latter bit and pointed back at the dirt-map. "While you distract the trolls we'll go in and get the master dummy. After you lose the trolls we'll regroup at the edge of the jungle and carry on to the obstacle course and from there," Ron looked inspirationally forward, strapping a hand to his chest, "victory."

"Fine," Seamus complained darkly, "I'll avenge me mammy's lucky chahms later." He diffused the bomb and went back to fixing up dinner.

_Seamus's 'dinner' and a stealthy excursion to the troll's encampment later…_

Ron was on the prowl. They crept about the forest to the beat of Dean's drums and Seamus, unannounced, tore off into the woods with a wild cry as he waved his knife-laden hands about to the night sky. Ron was quite sure he heard the mangled Irish version of the words 'lucky' and 'charms'. It only took a few seconds afterward for the trolls to start grunting and chase after the crazed boy.

"Alright – we're going in." The Hedwig-Ron announced. Neville rubbed Trevor for luck once more and Dean quickened the pace of the drums. The group broke into a bowed run as they reached the encampment. In the wild, blurred vision of the darkened site Ron made out the form of his dummy master. It called out to them.

"Yes, you ignorant oafs! How _dare _you leave me with these _hideous _creatures – they're worse than the Hogwarts girls! They stare at me much longer than thirty seconds! ! This is _all _your fault you know. I am a god, damnit! How could you allow these _things _to capture something this BEAUTIFUL!" It sounded exactly like Harry.

Hedwig started at the sound of her master – albeit through Ron's body. Hedwig-Ron lurched forward at a maddened gait, tearing the dummy master free of the gibbet from which it hung.

"My people invented gibbets," Dean mused over the beat. Ron rolled his eyes – he'd been hearing all the things Dean's people invented for the entirety of this excursion.

There was suddenly a feral roar which seemed to come from every direction. For a moment Ron was scared of this new threat – but then he heard it calling for the death of all things British and exclaiming something about the great potato famine.

"We got the civilian! All clear! All clear!" Ron shouted out the commands hoarsely, motioning wildly in all directions even as he held the dummy master over his shoulder.

Ron looked up sharply to check their heading against the Northern Star. He must have been muttering aloud for then Dean, who was at his side commented darkly,

"My people invented the Northern Star."

Ron groaned loudly and refrained from smacking himself – and Hedwig – in the face. They guerilla crawled out of the trolls' encampment and waited in the underbrush until Seamus could rejoin them.

They heard labored breathing and then Seamus plopped down next to them, bearing something dark and massive in his hands.

"Gud huntin', eh?" He grinned at them all toothily, and held up the strange object in his hands. "Teach 'em to insult me Irish blud agin', eh?" It was a troll's head.

Ron was vaguely aware of Neville puking in the underbrush beside them.

"My people invented decapitation."

Ron groaned loudly in exasperation.

"My people invented communication through grunts."

Ron gave him a murderous glare.

"My people invented facial expressions."

Ron hit Dean soundly across the face.

"My people invented physical abuse, as well."

Ron ignored him and swiftly pushed himself up from the ground. "Move out! We're burning daylight!" It was night.

"My people invented dayli –"

"_Move. Out._" Ron cut through Dean sharply, and motioned towards the direction of the jungle's perimeter.

They started through the foliage at a maddened pace, bearing the dummy master between them – Ron noticed that the drum had stopped beating, and that Dean wasn't helping uphold 'Harry', but he didn't really care as to why: the end was near. He could see the light at the end of the jungle. He could see the next trial.

They had just broken free of the tangled vines when they saw a monstrous blob obstructing most of their vision. It took several studying moments from Hedwig-Ron to discern that it was the masculine girl Millicent Bulstrode. Draco's minion. Ron's ear twitched and his lip pulled up to reveal his teeth. A low growl escaped.

But she wasn't alone. Upon her shoulders and in her arms she carried every last one of her teammates, including the dummy Draco. A ferocious roar escaped her maw as she barreled forwards, her eyes burning with some mad desire. Her mouth was frothing. A hideous roar rent from her fangs as the blob tore from the forest and she bounded across the clearing towards the beginning of their obstacle course.

Ron was about to return her challenge when he looked over to Dean, who was grinning darkly.

"Oi – what are you –" Ron began, before being cut off.

"My people invented pain," Dean announced evilly, stabbing at some strange lump in his hands. Ron squinted at the object in Dean's fist. "My people invented pins. My people invented dolls. My people invented _magic_." Dean stabbed repeatedly at what Ron soon realized was a crude doll of Millicent. A voodoo doll.

Instantaneously agonized roaring broke out from the darkness before them. There was a resounding crash and the earth beneath their feet shuddered somewhat. Millicent had fallen.

_.000001Minutes Later, in the Restricted Section of the library…_

"My minion!" Draco clutched at his heart. The action made Ginny, who had been balancing on Draco's shoulders so as to reach the higher shelves in the library, fall.

"_Really_?" She snapped up to Draco from the floor. He ignored her, too shocked at the abrupt end of the connection: how had Millicent fallen? Draco wracked his brain for answers, and then remembered that it was Minion Olympics in Sweden. He swore violently, deaf to Ginny as she cussed _him _out. Apparently somewhat cognitive Ginny was back.

Then she started speaking to him. But Draco was too preoccupied in his own thoughts to bother acknowledging her. How was he going to find another minion to replace her? She had served him so well…and Crabbe and Goyle were hardly ideal replacements; they were only good as henchmen.

"Hello!" Ginny snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing him back to reality: where normal people didn't have the issue of replacing their fallen minions. "Malfoy! What is wrong with you _now_?"

Draco allowed a brief laugh at this. "_Nothing _is wrong with me. Nothing is _ever _wrong with me. I am a Malfoy – and inherently perfect."

"You sound like Harry."

Draco grabbed at his heart once more, pretending to be hurt at this.

"Ugh – whatever. Hoist me up again! I have to find the book!" Ginny was already grabbing onto whatever she could of Draco in an attempt to regain her lost ground.

"Do you _mind_?" He pushed her needy hands away.

"Well it's not exactly like I can magic my way up there – Filch and Norris are always on the prowl; they'll know."

"As if they didn't already hear you blubbering when you fell."

"Oh, you mean when you _dropped _me?" She paused, shooting Draco an accusing glare. "You know, when you were _blubbering _over Millicent." She snorted. "_Millicent _of all people. That blockish creature hardly deserves to be called a girl. That transvestite is worse than _Pansy_."

"Jealous?" Draco shot heatedly back at her.

"No." She stopped. "Wait – are you implying that you're romantically interested in her! Little Malfoy has a little crush…you know…Drackie fancies Millicent Bulstrode? Oh that's just too much, really…!"

"Coming from the slut who dated Creevey – he's like one photograph away from being jailed for child pornography."

"That is _so _not true – he only photographed _me_ that way!"

Draco raised a questioning eyebrow. "You _condoned _this behavior?" He snapped down to her.

"Ugh – shut up. Just let me get the book."

"But wait – now that you mention it…aren't you like sixteen? Doesn't that make you underage? And him too! He's a _child photographer taking child pornography_!"

"You make it sound like I _let _him take pictures of me!" Ginny sounded outraged, for once.

Draco gave her a questioning look. "So you're saying you didn't…he creeped in and watched you? Now poor little Creevey's got stalking to go on his rap along with child pornography – great boyfriend right there."

"Ex," Ginny corrected scathingly.

"Oh yes – I forgot to congratulate you. Smooth break-up."

Ginny favored him with an burning glare. "Hoist me up or I'm finding someone else to do this with."

They glared furiously at each other for several moments before Draco finally gave in. "Fine."

"Good."

"_Good!_" Draco sneered at her.

Then he held out a hand to hoist her up. She fumbled about with the books on the upper shelves – searching for the mysterious book which Draco had highly begun to doubt even existed at this point.

Draco felt Ginny's weight lift from his shoulders as she climbed onto the shelves on her own, making it up several feet. He kept in an awed gasp as she continued upward, scaling the bookcase with relative ease. But then he remembered: she was a Weasley. Rodent, and all. Good at climbing and whatnot.

"Aha!" He heard her whispered cry of jubilation as she removed the book from its place. She flung both her hands up into the air in a cheer, with naught but her feet holding her in place. She quickly thrust her hands outward to grasp the shelf. She then jumped back down for Draco to catch her, opening the book when she alighted.

"Good – I have it."

"Yes, I noticed." He motioned up towards her previous display of stupidity…the one in which she practically fell from the shelves.

She scanned the pages rapidly and it took every muscle in Draco's body to restrain from asking her if she actually knew what she was reading, or just putting on a show of intelligence to impress him.

"I'm not impressed," he announced suddenly.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny looked up from the book.

"Nothing," he narrowed his eyes suspiciously as she continued to 'read' this book.

"Found it!" She burst out some minutes later, pulling her wand from her robes.

"_Chocolatus Tutto Toccarius deis Frederick Weasley et George Weasley!_"

Draco tried to refrain from laughing. He eyed her suddenly. "You weren't serious, were you? _That _was your big plan for revenge?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "What? It gives the chocolate touch! That would be _so _annoying. Everything you touched would be chocolate!" She reached out to Draco, grabbing his arm.

"See? You would be chocolate," she smirked winningly at him. "_How annoying would that be_?"

He fought her off violently, afraid she might have miscast the spell and placed it on herself – you could never take chances with dumb, brutish, whore Weasleys, despite their random bouts of intelligence.

"I knew I shouldn't have left this to you, you're just too stupid."

"Whatever – they're my brothers! I know this will annoy them." Draco knew this wouldn't annoy them. Ginny continued on, oblivious to his pointed glaring. "Just let me put this book back." She held her hands out expectantly, waiting for Draco to lift her up. He glared for several more moments before complying. It took Ginny a few moments to climb about Draco and reach her customary perch upon his shoulders. She grabbed at the shelves above them, trying to regain her previous hold.

"Go higher! _I can't reach it_," Ginny commanded from above. Draco rolled his eyes. He'd been over this before, he couldn't go higher.

"I can't go higher," He complained up to her.

"Stand on your tiptoes!"

"No! Do you have any idea how precar –" Draco was cut off by Ginny crashing down on top of him, knocking both of them to the floor with a loud crash. Draco opened his mouth to yell at her for being so clumsy but was cut off by her covering his mouth with her hand.

"Shhh!" She whispered, listening. Satisfied that neither of the caretakers – human or feline – had heard their fall, she released her hold over his mouth. Draco glared up at her mutinously.

"What the – bloody hell! I told you not to go higher. You know you probably broke three of my ribs with your fall! If you weren't so bloody fat –!"

"No," Ginny cut through him, her voice dripping venom. "I am _not _fat."

"Tell that to my three broken ribs," He gasped, trying to gulp fresh air even as she crushed it from his lungs. "Get off of me!"

"No," Ginny answered defiantly. "Not until you admit that I'm not fat."

Draco remained as stubborn as ever. "You know it doesn't really count if it's forced." He gulped at more air. "I'm going to die. I'm going to be crushed beneath your weight – this just proves you're morbidly obese."

Ginny slapped him soundly across the face. "_I am not fat, you ass!_"

Draco was turning purple from lack of oxygen and couldn't find the air to respond. He shoved her in-actuality lightweight form from him, surprised that he hadn't thought of this before. He was sucking in oxygen with frenzied intakes of breath when he heard a smash as Ginny crashed into the bookcase. He felt vaguely guilty for throwing her into it.

"You hurt my head!" Ginny cried out to him, disregarding their agreed upon "whisper voice" rule. When Draco regained his eyesight he saw that this was true; Ginny was rubbing her head back and forth. She shrugged at him.

"Oh well ... you're hot! I forgive you."

Draco ignored this for the time being so he could push up from the floor and lean against a surrounding book case. He was trying to regulate his breathing: in…out…in…out…in –

"Agh!" Draco tried to dodge aside, but Ginny had already lunged at him, causing his own head to smack into the wood behind him. He swore, even as he heard a somewhat familiar _clicking _noise, but Ginny had knotted her fingers into his hair. She'd already latched onto his mouth and started to kiss him eagerly.

Draco held back an exasperated groan. Whore Ginny was back.

Another _click_.

Her fingers were running through his hair, mussing it. He found he didn't really have the energy to fight her away anymore. Anyways, she did sort of smell nice he supposed. And there were definitely worse girls he could be snogging. He gave in to her, taking a hold of her waist and pulling her toward himself. He'd nearly gotten her onto his lap when, abruptly, Ginny froze. In another instant, she'd flung him away from her, cursing incoherently.

"God, Malfoy! What the hell?" Her furious shriek tore through the silence of the library. Draco stared at her disbelievingly, still thrown back against the shelves.

"You're the one who attacked me, you crazed prostitute! I can't deal with this! You just flip back and forth between personalities. You're insane!"

_Click._

Draco froze as he finally placed the noise with the object it came from. He whirled about sharply, pushing a still furious Ginny away from him. He'd seen the flash come from an empty space in the books on the shelf behind them.

"Creevey," It was a growl.

Before Draco could dash around to where the photographer specializing in pornography lurked, Ginny had darted in front of him and rounded the bend of the bookcase, trying to head Colin off before he could make his escape.

"Colin, what the fucking bloody hell do you think you're up to, you little shit! Get back here you asshole! I'm going to shove that camera so far up your ass you're going to wish that you had never been born!" She started kicking violently toward any bit of Colin that she could reach. Colin was crying on the floor, hugging his camera to his chest, muttering something about "not even waiting a day". Draco wondered if he should step in.

"You tiny creeping little bastard! I'm going to kill y-!"

Draco grabbed at Ginny's shoulders and pulled her back even as she tried to kick out again toward Colin. She swore a little, breaking off mid-sentence, and started twisting demonically in his grasp. He tightened his grip on her, pulling instead at her arms, and yanked her out of kicking range of Colin. Colin, sensing that freedom was near, started to unroll himself from the fetal position.

"Fuck! Seven, stop it you'll kick his face in!" Draco ordered.

"I don't care! Just – let – _go_ – Malfoy!" She struggled once more from within his grasp, but it was futile. She stopped for a moment and Draco relaxed his grip on her arms momentarily. Then she bit him.

Draco swore, releasing his hold entirely on her as he grasped at his bleeding arm. Colin, aware that his predator had just been released from her restraints, tore from the room, still clutching his camera. Ginny didn't hesitate as she flew after him, her eyes alight in a craze for blood: Colin's blood.

Draco wished now, more than anything, that he had his minions to care for his ghastly injury. He wondered if she was rabid. Now he had more than just STDs to worry about being transmitted from her. He cursed her again and ripped off part of his robes, tying it about his arm to staunch the flow of blood. He leaned up against the shelf and slid down it, trying to relax himself by closing his eyes and regulating his breathing once more.

"He. Got. Away."

Draco snapped his eyes opened to take in a furious Ginny whose eyes glinted with bloodlust. He wished he had taken the chance for escape in her absence.

"It's your fault," she announced hotly, closing in on Draco. He gulped. She was going to kill him – he knew it. And the poison from her bite would weaken him; he could already feel it coursing through his veins.

Then, suddenly, her rage was gone. She stared at Draco and he restrained a frustrated groan. Angry Ginny's stupid counterpart had returned.

"Heyy!" She waved brightly at Draco, twirling her hair.

"You need help," he announced coldly. "Please, see that you get some immediately."

"Suure," she drawled out, advancing towards him. Draco wasn't sure which Ginny he was more frightened of at the moment. Both seemed to have a fixation with him which he wasn't sure he was quite comfortable with.

He involuntarily pushed himself away, only to realize he was still against the bookcase. He mentally cursed himself once more for not escaping when given the chance. Ginny bent down to his level.

"Get away from me."

Ginny's nostrils flared. She could smell his fear.

"You hang around McGonagall too much," he managed to croak out.

"Who's that?" Ginny whispered. It was clear to Draco she didn't particularly want an answer.

"Umm…" Draco began. Ginny started to crawl toward him on her hands. "Well, you see…" Ginny had reached him now and climbed on top of him. "She's just –" Draco was cut off by Ginny violently kissing him. He was convinced she had cracked. It was bound to happen. Her frail mind couldn't stand the strain of being around him for such prolonged amounts of time. He _was _a Malfoy after all…and she was a rodent. A rodent he was kissing. He didn't know how he felt about that.

Then, just as abruptly Ginny broke apart from him.

"_Really?_ Again, Malfoy. Get. Off. Of. Me!"

Draco didn't have the patience to respond to her. Give it a few more moments, he reasoned with himself, and whore Ginny would be back. Sure enough, she grabbed at Draco again. Then she paused, her head twitched slightly. She took in her surroundings and released her hold on Draco's collar as if she had been burned. Almost just as instantaneously she grabbed at him again and this time succeeded in furthering her goal. Just as she began kissing him she broke away, shrieking.

"You're joking. You've got to be joking." Draco was getting quite annoyed now. She needed to pick a personality. He wasn't just going to sit here and be _used _to transfer her from one state to the next.

"Malfoy!" She leaned in towards him, a serious look on her face. "What's going on with me?"

"How am _I _supposed to know? I'm just an innocent bystander! You're the one that can't decide if you want to rape or kill me!"

Ginny's brow furrowed. "Why would I want to rape you?"

"I don't know, damnit! But I'm not dealing with this, you're too bipolar." He paused, "we have a job to do! We're supposed to be destroying Weasleys Four and Five, or had you forgotten?" He finished with a sneer.

But Ginny hadn't noticed his distemper, her face had cleared immediately at the mention of her brothers.

"Of course," she breathed and turned her gaze back onto Draco. "That's it! They did this!"

Draco wrinkled his nose. "_This?_"

Ginny glared down at him. "What, don't you _dare_ tell me you honestly thought I was always like this. Just because I have a few blackouts first year does _not_ mean that I'm permanently an idiotic schizo! That was all Tom," she paused, remembering her former captor. Draco could have sworn her saw a faint smile start up on her features, but then Ginny had turned bitter again. "Fred and George did something to me. This is _so_ them." Her voice was dropping to a growl. "I can't believe they'd stoop this low."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You do realize this only _furthers _my point."

"Your point?" She repeated, eyeing him.

"Oh, God…I thought you were the smart one." Draco retorted. She smacked him on the arm. He winced, rubbing it and giving her a somewhat icy glance. Nevertheless, he elaborated. "Revenge…Fred…George…ring a bell?"

"Well do you have any ideas, Mr. Smart-Ass?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I _do_," Draco retorted scathingly. She slid off of him as he stood up to his feet and rifled through the bookcase. Then he stopped, pulling out a book and placing it in Ginny's hands. Her eyes scanned the cover and widened, gasping slightly.

"And that, is how a Malfoy has revenge."

**A/N:**

**Well I hope you all liked this chapter, sorry for the delay in updating, but I'm in the process of packing/ending vacation. Thanks to all the reviews I've gotten so far, and please keep on reading and reviewing!**

******Fallen Fairytale:** I _have_ allowed you to go back to the laptop, so hah. And your use of it in NH prevented _me_ from doing this story so ... anyways.

**Chris Ti:** haha no, I originally finished the entire story back then, but (since it was so long ago and I was much younger when I wrote it) I decided to re-write it in order to work out the plot line further and make it funnier. But yes, Harry is awesome. I think he's my favorite character in this story, I wish I could include him more. Thanks for reviewing!

**melanie f:** mhm, perhaps, but Harry's ridiculousness is what (I think at least) makes him so hilarious. haha yes, Hedwig-Ron is good too, my sister helped me with that idea. I know he'll be staying as Hedwig-Ron for the minion tournament, but I'm not sure about the rest of the story. It's still up in the air at the moment. Thanks for reviewing and I'm sorry for the delay in updating.

**Enrique4Sal**: Fred and George are at Hogwarts still because they've both failed their N.E.W.T.s the last two years running and their mother won't let them leave until they get acceptable grades. A little cheap I know, but I needed to have them be at the school and Ginny still had to be old enough for her ... "reputation". haha anyways, thanks for the review!


	7. Chapter Six: A Chocolate Wedding

**Chapter Six: A Chocolate Wedding**

"Puelle tutte Frederick et George!" Draco had hardly rounded the corner to the Gryffindor Common Room (courtesy of Ginny getting them past the Fat Lady) before he let the spell fly. There was a flash of red light and Fred and George, both plotting together by the fire, were enveloped in its light, cursing.

Draco pocketed his wand with a smirk.

The light and smoke cleared. There was no sign of Fred and George. Instead, two ginger girls, twins, stood in their place. They were swearing incoherently, grabbing at themselves in disbelief. They were both in matching mini-skirts and six inch heels. One had a Coach purse. The other's hands were filled with a compact and was in the act of plucking her eyebrows.

The other Gryffindors around them burst out laughing.

"Fuck, George, he's made us girls!" Fred's soprano voice rang through the Common Room.

"I think you mean 'Georgina'," Draco drawled. Georgina shrieked, grabbing at her hair in disbelief. It hung some two feet down her back. Then it turned brown. Her shriek maddened to something akin to a horror film actress. "_MY HAIR! IT'S BLOODY CHOCOLATE!_"

Draco snorted, struggling to breathe in his laughter. The tweezers Fredericka had been using on her eyebrows had already turned. Georgina shrieked again, trying to grab at her wand. She swore foully when it transformed in her hands. Fredericka was flinging the chocolate compact across the room.

"You'll pay for this, Malfoy!" Georgina was swearing foully in his direction.

"YOU WILL RUE THIS DAY!" Fredericka pointed a trembling, polished nail out in Draco's direction. "_You will rue it_!" They fled up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Draco turned back to Ginny, looking pleased with himself. The vacant look was back in Ginny's eyes.

"I don't like …" she twirled her hair between her fingers. "I don't like get it. Where'd they go?"

Dennis Creevey was crawling across the floor, toward the chocolate compact. He sniffed it.

Swearing broke out from the boys' dorms above them. Moments later, Fredericka and Georgina tripped down the stairs, still learning how to walk in heels, and collapsed in a mess of purses and makeup bags at the base of the landing. The Gryffindors' laughter escalated to even greater heights. Georgina was the first to rise, tearing the orange heels from her feet (they promptly turned to chocolate) and holding them threateningly in her hands. The purse strap was already slipping from her shoulder.

"This isn't the end!" She was fumbling in her bags for something. Draco saw that she'd found some gloves and put them on her hands. The gloves had turned to chocolate and were starting to melt but, for the moment, they acted as an effective barrier to the spell.

"THIS WAR IS _SOO_ ON!" Fredericka shrieked, whipping her own wand out. She wore matching, chocolate gloves. Draco instinctively grabbed at his own wand, but there was no need. Fredericka had directed her spell toward her sister and self. The two disappeared in a pulse of smoke.

The Gryffindors continued to laugh. Dennis was eating the chocolate compact. He'd already wiped the dust off. Draco returned his wand to his robes, pivoting about to high-five Ginny.

"Now _that's_ what I call revenge!"

He'd already raised his hand up but Ginny, staring at it blankly, hadn't moved her own. "What the hell is that like … a new middle finger or something? Is that supposed to be the bird? Are you flipping me off!" She slapped him.

Draco didn't even try explaining it to her.

_.2857 Weeks Later…_

Draco was in the hallway. Ginny had decided it would be a good plotting spot. He'd learned that one couldn't expect more from her brain than this. What really got him was that she'd written it in a letter. _Written it_.

He glowered, pacing up and down the hall. It was crowded, which figured. She _would_ choose the most obvious place to possibly plot further schemes for their war against Weasleys Four and Five.

And she was late. He supposed she couldn't read the clocks, though. Even if she could read the clocks, she wouldn't know what the numbers meant. No telling how long he'd be stuck waiting for her.

He was about to leave when his eyes snagged on a copy of _The Hog's Wart_. He felt his heart lurch. He felt faintly sick. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

There. On the cover. Over and over again. Ginny attacking him in the Restricted Section of the Library. The words curled up over the ovular picture. _'Weasley and Malfoy Feud Over? Wedding details inside…_'

He swore. Maybe no one else had seen. He staggered toward the newspaper. Then he noticed it was held up in the small hands of a first year Hufflepuff. He struck the thing over the thing over the head, not even taking note of its gender. It didn't matter. It was a Hufflepuff. But he could hear the laughter. He could _hear_ them.

He whirled about. A group of sixth year girls were huddled around their own copy of the school paper, pointing and snickering behind the thing.

He swore foully again, grabbing at the paper and wrenching it from the Hufflepuff's hands.

There was a flash of light and the hall around him spun. He was flung about in the air. Then he landed with a _thud_ on the lawn. He pushed himself up roughly. He heard a violin playing in the background.

"Oh good, you've _joined_ us!" Fredericka cooed, grabbing at Draco roughly and pulling him up by his tie. She was still a girl. She wore lacy gloves that had turned brown. They left chocolate stains on his shirt.

"Here, drink this! You look so _thirsty_!" Georgina stuffed a goblet toward his mouth before he could protest. He choked on its contents, spluttering slightly. He'd hardly swallowed a mouthful before his mind blanked. His eyes drooped slightly.

"And… _Vestiti elegant_!" Fredericka waved her wand. There was a flash of blue and Draco's Slytherin robes were replaced by formal ones. Georgina guided him forward roughly, still dragging him by his tie.

He was vaguely aware of passing rows and rows of white chairs. One of them seemed to be home to a mountain of green. The mountain moved.

"Oh I _love_ these -!" The green mountain clapped its hands together from where it sat on the chair. It popped a lemon drop into its mouth, cramming a pipe back between its teeth. The smoke curling up from it was green and the scent of burnt clover filled the air. Draco blinked, vaguely aware that it was his headmaster seated upon the chair.

Dumbledore was humming pleasantly to himself. He was fixing the clover necklace he'd fashioned and was in the act of placing a matching coronet over his white head.

Georgina threw Draco into a chair just before a white podium, sighing impatiently.

"Shit, I think I broke a nail!" She inspected her chocolate covered hands with narrowed eyes.

Next to Draco, Ginny looked as if she'd been drugged as well. He couldn't tell though. Not with her dying brain and all. It was a few moments before it occurred to him that she was in white. He swore, the words coming out in a slur.

"Gaawd _no_," he tried to turn his head about, but it was difficult to make his limbs obey him. It was the drink they'd given him. It had to be. "I ammm … not … marrrrry …" he shook his head emphatically.

"Oh shut up, Malfoy. You had this coming!" Fredericka retorted, flipping her hair. "Now we've gone to a lot of trouble to get this together and you're going to appreciate it, now aren't you?"

Draco wanted to say no. But the drink made him say, quite clearly, "Yes."

Fredericka smiled winningly. "Good." She leaned back, waving happily toward their smoking headmaster. Dumbledore smiled and waved back at her. Then he turned back to weaving the four leaf clovers into his beard. Georgina had already looked back to the drugged bride and groom.

"Ok, so remember that you two are completely in love. That's important." Behind her, Colin (dressed in white) was hurrying across the stage with his camera. Draco tried to force himself up from the seat and tackle him, but he couldn't move. Georgina grinned at him.

"No, no, ickle Drackie," she tapped him on the nose. It left a smudge of brown. "You _can't_ go around attacking your wedding photographer! He already did such a good job on your engagement photos!"

Before Draco could think of a response to this, Georgina had looked back toward Colin. "Minion!"

Colin, apparently now minion to Fred and George, stopped his harried pace, looking toward them.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Set up by the lake. They're going to want some before and after photos!"

Colin bowed and hurried off. Georgina rolled her eyes and looked back to Draco and Ginny.

"Yes, I _know_ it's Creevey and he's a little pervert-"

"We've got to finish debriefing them before the guests get here," Fredericka warned, glancing over her shoulder. Draco followed her gaze.

There they were. _Guests_. Students from Hogwarts were already streaming forth from the school, copies of the newspaper clasped eagerly in their hands. What the hell was happening…

"Ok, so you two are in love. You're getting married. Publically," Georgina glanced back to Fredericka. "Does that cover it?"

Fredericka rolled her eyes a little, stepping over to them swiftly. She'd mastered the use of her heels. "_You_," she jabbed a finger in a very Ginny-like-manner toward Draco's chest, "are not to cause any raucous. It would be quite rude. You're going to do exactly as we say," she paused, smiling a little, "mainly because we've drugged you."

"Thanks again for the recipe, Dumblie-_dore_!" Georgina called, waving her fingers individually toward their headmaster.

"No, thank _you_ for directing me to that patch of four-leaf-!" Dumbledore suddenly broke off, nodding happily. He turned back to his beard. It was half filled with braided clovers now.

"Do you think it's ready yet?" Fredericka was eyeing her sister, her voice low.

"I don't know if it will finish in time," Georgina hissed in answer, scanning the scene of the soon-to-be-wedding beneath mascara painted eyelashes.

"Send the minion to check!" Fredericka ordered. Georgina turned, shrieking out in the direction of the lake and Colin.

"Minion! To Headquarters! Immediately!"

"But that is so ridiculous," Ginny exploded, drawing their attention back to her. Apparently Smart Ginny was back. "As if anyone would believe we'd be getting _married_," she jerked her head between herself and Draco.

"But you've already _given_ us all the evidence we need!" Fredericka's voice was a happy crow. She shook a copy of the _Hog's Wart_ before them. "You practically spoon fed us the idea!"

Ginny's expression twisted. She was turning a mottled purple. She rounded on Draco. "What the hell, _Malfoy_?"

He flung his head backward in frustration. "Oh my God! _You_ attacked me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Ok, let's save the marital bickering for _after_ the wedding, shall we?" Georgina interrupted, pushing Draco and Ginny away from each other. She left chocolate stains on both their clothes. Her gloves were more than half melted now.

"You two are going to behave," Fredericka warned, holding a dripping finger out before them commandingly. "Unless of course," she paused a little, "you're ready to admit that we've won… ?"

"As _if_!" Ginny spat. "This is so not over! If you think being turned into girls was bad-!"

"And you're not going to talk about that or this little war anymore, are you Gin?" Georgina interrupted, eyeing Ginny happily.

Ginny abruptly stopped talking.

"Good," Fredericka removed her wand from her dress robes. "_Scourgify_!"

The chocolate stains vanished from Ginny's dress and Draco's robes. Fredericka and Georgina both turned as the sound of the violin heightened in intensity. Draco craned his neck about so that he could glance backward.

Professor Flitwick was prancing down the aisle, a violin over half his size caught up between his chin and shoulder. He was followed by a charmed, dancing goat. Dumbledore clapped his hands together happily.

"_Aberforth_!"

The Hogwarts students had already taken the seats spread out before the podium. A priest was slowly ascending the steps leading to the podium, a massive _Bible_ in his hands. Behind Flitwick, Draco's servants were hurrying forward.

Millicent Bulstrode had recovered from the voodoo doll attack, and was barreling forward on crutches. The earth shook under her weight. Crabbe and Goyle, in their best dress robes, were trundling along after her. Draco observed the food stains on their clothes with narrowed eyes. Blaise Zabini brought up the rear.

Chocolate stained fingers gripped Draco's chin. Fredericka was whipping his head about to face her again. Colin had materialized, unnoticed by Ginny or Draco, behind the twins. A pair of pink, smoking potions were in Georgina's gloved hands.

"Drink up!"

Draco felt his hands, against his will, taking the nearer of the potions. Ginny obeyed the command as well, taking the one nearer her. Draco had hardly taken a sip before he abruptly lurched up from his seat, a grin plastered across his features.

He was completely in love. And he was getting married. Suddenly the world seemed bright and airy. He could _see_ the rainbows in the clouded, overcast, and black sky above.

He leapt up from his seat, grabbing at Ginny. "We're getting _married_!" he trilled, spinning her around in a circle as he jumped up and down excitedly. Ginny was laughing too, prancing in place and shoving her five-inch heels deep into the ground.

"Blaise!" Draco abruptly released Ginny and fought his way down the aisle, toward his approaching pet and other cronies. Blaise stopped just before the podium. Draco clapped his pet about the shoulders. "You have _got_ to be my best man! I'm getting married today!"

Blaise raised a sculpted eyebrow. "Oh _hale_ no!"

Draco paused, momentarily taken aback. "Since when do you have a girl voice?"

Blaise's hands were on her hips. "I have _always_ had a 'girl' voice," she hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You just never let me speak!"

Draco wasn't the only one surprised at this. Fredericka and Georgina were equally shocked. Crabbe and Goyle were staring at Blaise in newfound awe. Millicent was eating grass.

"I just … we all always just thought you were a really feminine man," Draco finally managed. Blaise glared at him. She was in a dress.

"Do I _look_ like a man?" she motioned toward herself.

"Well you do cut your hair rather short…" Georgina piped up.

"And most of the time you are in robes," Fredericka justified.

There was an awkward pause.

"So…" Draco glanced toward Blaise from the corner of his eye. "Are you going to be my best man or not?"

Blaise sighed resignedly, rolling her eyes. "_Fine_. But I am _staying_ in the dress."

"Works for me," Fredericka announced happily, clapping her chocolate covered hands together.

"Now come on, line up!" Georgina ordered, grabbing at Padma Patil, who had just arrived on scene. "Bloody late as usual. You girls have no class," Georgina dragged Padma off toward Ginny.

Apparently Padma was to be maid of honor. Fredericka stuffed some flowers into Padma's hands, rounding on Ginny a moment later. She handed her a bouquet.

"Now you're going to do this proper, sis," Fredericka hissed, "and after Dumbledore gives you away and once you're married, you're going to toss the bouquet," she paused. "You're going to toss it to _me_." Her expression turned frightful and she tightened her steel-like grip on Ginny's wrists, leaving chocolate imprints, "_Georgina is not going to get it, do you understand?_"

Ginny nodded numbly. Fredericka released her after a few more moments of pointed glaring. Then, she and Georgina stepped back.

Dumbledore stood up, at last pocketing his pipe, and approached Ginny. He reeked of clovers.

"Now, now my dear, let's do this, shall," Dumbledore cut off abruptly, smiling down at her as if nothing had happened. He offered her his arm and then led her back down the aisle. Padma followed her.

Draco, grinning idiotically, took his place before the podium. Blaise strode toward the pavilion proudly, her three-inch heels clicking noisily against the flooring as she stepped off of the grass. She gathered her red skirts in her hands and ascended the stairs. She swept in behind Draco.

Flitwick at last pranced to a halt some feet behind the priest, still playing the violin. The goat jigged happily about him, its hooves _clacking_ against the wood and the bells on its neck ringing.

Dumbledore, still holding Ginny's arm in his own, happily placed a necklace of clovers around her head.

"Aren't you happy to be getting?" he asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"What?"

He watched her silently, opening and shutting his mouth in quick succession. He eyed her excitedly, as if he had just spoken and was now awaiting her answer.

"Er… purple?" Ginny asked, unsure of what she sound say. Dumbledore frowned at her, then patted her head affectionately, as if he should have known better than to expect cognitive responses from a prostitute.

"I must admit I am actually quite surprised _you_, of all people, would be," he turned from her, still rubbing her head, and scanned the crowd. "Are you tired of those old habits you-?"

Ginny was spared having to think of a reply. Flitwick had started to play the violin again, signifying that the wedding had begun, and Dumbledore, finally relinquishing his hold on her head, started down the aisle at a leisurely pace.

It was all Ginny could do to stop from charging down the aisle and leaving him in the dust. She was getting married today. The old bag of clovers and lemon drops was holding her back.

After some painstakingly slow minutes, she and Dumbledore at last gained the head of the pavilion and the podium. Dumbledore, smiling benignly at them all, lifted the clover necklace from its place around Ginny's neck and, without another word, shuffled back to his previous seat.

He shoved the necklace surreptitiously into his pipe. He began to smoke again.

"We are gathered here today," the priest started to drawl, reading loftily from his notes as he surveyed the students and teachers seated before him, "to witness the marriage of Draconis Malfoy and Ginerva Weasley."

He paused, as if expecting mobs of angered parents and guardians to descend on the scene. When no such thing occurred, he sniffed and turned back to his notes.

"First, I must ask if there is any man, woman, merman, merwoman, goat, gnome, giant, squirrel, half-giant, god-?"

"I OBJECT!"

Everyone turned. Harry Potter, an incensed glint in his eyes and a damning finger held aloft, had appeared at the far end of the aisle. Hermione stood just behind him, an apologetic look on her face.

"_I tried to stop him_," she mouthed. Behind her, the minion, pet, and henchmen of Harry Potter lurked.

Harry Potter strutted down the aisle imperiously, blazing fury on his countenance. "How _dare_ you?" he shrieked. "How _DARE YOU?_" He was waving something in his hands. Something ragged and papery. It looked as if it had been scorched several times.

It was a moment before Draco recognized it as a copy of the _Hog's Wart_.

"_I alone deserve to be on the front cover of the _Hog's Wart!" he raged. Draco snorted, glaring over in Harry's direction; incensed that he had interrupted his wedding.

"And then," the enraged Harry continued, "you had the _gall _to obstruct my view of the lake! Well, no! I shall not stand for this!" Harry strode madly up to the priest who had watched his outbursts with increasing shock.

"_Move_," Harry commanded icily, glaring at anyone who _dared _meet his gaze. The priest melted under Harry's fury, and glanced towards the twins for confirmation. But neither was paying any attention to him. Georgina's mouth was gaping at Harry in horror and Fredericka seemed frozen in place.

"I command this blasphemy to cease – immediately! For today," Harry turned about to face the gathered mass of students. He spread his arms about, smiling down at them. "Today I have answered your prayers. You fortunate souls shall have the _blessing _to witness the wedding between Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, The Savior of the Wizarding World and Hermione Jane Granger."

Harry, deeming his speech finished, turned back to the enraged Ginny and Draco.

"Go sit where you _belong _– in the stands. _No one _gets married on the same day as _Us_."

The priest started towards the stairs, seeing as he needn't marry the two anymore. Georgina recovered from her initial surprise and swiftly grabbed out to stop the priest from leaving. Fredericka began protesting that the Malfoy-Weasley wedding was still on, but the words died in her throat.

The priest had turned to chocolate.

"Agh!" A frightened 1st year Hufflepuff screamed in terror, readying to flee the scene. Fredericka grabbed at the insubordinate child and prevent him from leaving. Even as she did so she started cursing: the Hufflepuff had met the same fate.

But then the majority of the crowd's fear vanished at the ridiculousness of it. It was a Hufflepuff – it didn't matter.

The minority of the Hufflepuffs still in the crowd were frozen in fear; now more terrified than ever.

"Run for your lives!" Ernie screamed out into the crowd, tearing towards the school. Fredericka, sensing a new game afoot, laughed maniacally and dashed after them, grabbing at any Hufflepuff that she could.

All eyes turned back on Harry, who was watching the scene with a somewhat amused smile. Then he cleared his throat.

"It matters not! I shall be married regardless – I am a god! I can perform the ceremony myself! For only this way can I share my immortality with Hermione." He reached his hand out towards the girl in question.

Georgina still stood unmoving at the base of the podium.

"What did we _do _to Harry? That was supposed to wear off _months_ ago!" She hissed in horror, glancing sideways. Then she realized Fredericka was still on her self-assumed crusade against the Hufflepuffs.

But Hermione was already advancing down the aisle to take her place by Harry. She had somehow managed to find a wedding dress – and get it on – in a manner of minutes since Harry's abrupt proposal.

As soon as Hermione arrived next to Harry, he began performing the ceremony.

"Do I – _the _Harry Potter – take and accept Hermione Jane Granger as my wife for _eternity_?" Harry paused, as if considering this. He spoke clearly. "Yes, I do." He turned to Hermione. "Do you, Hermione Jane Granger take Harry James Potter as your – oh hell, of _course _you do! I mean," He looked around to the crowd, "w_ho wouldn't_?"

Hermione beamed up at him, and answered nonetheless. "I do."

"Then I pronounce myself, god and you, Hermione Jane Granger, goddess." The crowd stared at Harry blankly and rolled his eyes, correcting himself. "_Man and wife._ I may kiss the bride."

And he did.

Georgina rounded on Draco and Ginny, snarling.

"Don't think you two have gotten off for this!" In an act of desperation, Georgina grabbed at her skirts and tore off a shred. She tied the chocolate strip about her hand, winding it about. Then she ripped her wand from her pockets and aimed it at the pair of them.

"Gluttonus et grassus absorbus Draconis Malfoy et channulus to Ginervra Weasley!" There was a flash of green light and when it vanished it found Draco bowed on the floor, devouring the unfortunate chocolate priest.

Harry and Hermione had descended from the podium, hand in hand. They stopped before Draco and Ginny.

"My servants conquered yours at the tournament in Sweden," Harry announced loftily, glancing down toward Draco. "Not that this was not expected, but I felt that you should have known to maim your minions before their entry. That you should have known it was expected that they fail." Then he straightened, the disgust smoothing from his features. Draco continued to eat. Ginny was groaning and clutching what was apparently a stomach ache.

Harry continued, disregarding their noises as he eyed Hermione. He beamed, reddening a bit, and glanced back toward Draco and Ginny. "Seeing as today is the time we have taken to celebrate Hermione's ascension to goddess," he motioned toward Hermione, "I will be lenient. I will not punish you for failing to injure, incapacitate, or otherwise mutilate your servants. But know that we will be watching." He leaned forward. "Know that we will be _on guard_."

He and Hermione swept past. Neville, having retained his status as pet by sacrificing himself in the very end of the competition when Millicent rose again, hobbled by. He was bandaged from head to foot. Ron, a glower on his features, followed next. He was still a minion, damnit, even though he'd eaten that spider at Hedwig's bidding.

Seamus followed Ron, grinning. He was bowed over something that sparked in his hands. His robes looked a little too bulky about the chest area.

Dean brought up the rear of the procession. He paused just in front of Draco, eyeing Blaise who stood behind him.

"You're not even black," he hissed viciously, glaring over at her. "You do not _deserve_ the skin of my people."

Blaise was too preoccupied in her attempts to prevent Draco from eating the table leg he'd moved onto to hear or even respond to Dean's taunt.

Dean dismissed her with a flick of his hand and a rolling of the eyes. "Your paint will wash off soon enough."

He pulled up a lawn chair, sitting down in it. The dark sky exploded with a crash of thunder. The engorged clouds released their contents in a sudden torrential downpour. There was a flash of lightning.

Blaise's "paint" did not wash off.

Dean decided it was waterproof. She probably got it at Lowe's. He gave her one last, disgusted look, before rising from his chair and starting back toward the school. He would reveal her secret, when the time came.

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the delay, I've been moving and it's insane :) Hope you liked the chapter and please keep reading and reviewing!**

**FallenFairytale:** and Dumbledore has entered ... with his clovers. I believe the word you were searching for was "irritation".

**Enrique4Sal:** haha I highlighted some stereotypes so it was fun :) I think those were the best parts of the chapter to write

**melanie f:** Hey again :) Yeah Draco and Ginny are awesome, hope you liked this chapter just as much!

**Chris Ti:** haha yeah I do. You caught Seamus's "charms" didn't you? I'm not into it as much as I used to be though.

**thunderstormtwilightnight:** haha ty :) Random = Funny


	8. Chapter Seven: A Miniature Problem

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the random "other story" bits, but I couldn't resist :) I hope you like the chapter and I promise the appearance of a certain dark lord by the end!**

**Chapter Seven: A Miniature Problem**

Draco couldn't stop eating. No shred of cloth, piece of furniture or _student _was safe ... at least not for the next thirty-six hours. It soon became evident that everything he ate, rather than being reflected in his girth, was being channeled into Ginny. She swiftly grew to a rather bloated state and moved with such great difficulty that Crabbe and Goyle had to carry her back to Hogwarts and Millicent, at last retrieved from chasing the goat Aberforth about the grounds, had to forcibly take Draco back to the building.

Once inside, he could not prevent himself from clawing at the flagstones, the paintings, and even some unfortunate peers (the majority of which were Hufflepuffs); such a maddened craze to devour any and everything in sight had taken hold of him.

With each bite Draco tore from his surroundings, Ginny grew larger and larger. She had hardly managed to shriek and emit a series of curses upon first seeing her stomach bulge with the contents of Draco's latest meal before she'd started to vomit and retch from the horror of it all. She was in a near constant shade of green and Crabbe and Goyle, still carting her up to the Slytherin Common Room, were drenched with the ghastly contents of the Draco-Ginny stomach.

It was Blaise that sought out Dumbledore for aid and, when she could not find him, eventually returned to the Slytherin Common Room with Madame Pomfrey in her wake.

Draco had been in the act of ingesting the rug that covered the length of the green and black common room, all the while Ginny was vomiting all over Goyl, when Madame Pomfrey entered and screeched at the horrific sight. She soon set about ordering Draco's minions about and forcing foul concoctions down both Draco and Ginny's throats. Draco attempted to eat the bottle he had been handed before Madame Pomfrey smacked him soundly and wrenched it from the steel-like trap that was his teeth.

Needless to say, it was some hours before Draco and Ginny recovered.

_.2857 Weeks Later…_

Draco and Ginny were plotting… in a broom closet. It was the best they, and more Ginny than Draco, could come up with on such short notice.

"We've got to get back at them for that," Draco spat, pacing back and forth between rows of dirty mop water. "This is _ridiculous_. We've accomplished nothing! Weasleys Four and Five are still dancing, albeit as girls."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Obviously, we need a better plan."

"You're one to talk! All you've contributed are love letters and a spell which makes everything they touch turn to _chocolate_!" Draco was in a foul mood, he didn't much care what it was he verbally attacked her with. "You're responsible for the lives of several Hufflepuffs!"

"Well _you_ weren't the one puking your guts up all over every inch of the school!" she retorted. "That was _foul_!"

"Oh, please," Draco bit back at her, "I was nearly forced into marrying _you_ – the black sheep of the Weasley family – that's saying a lot."

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "And I was there, what, of my own _volition_? Do you honestly think that I wanted to be there?" She snorted slightly, her eyes flashing dangerously in Draco's direction. "As if I would want to marry you! It would be a far stretch to say I was _attracted _to you."

Draco didn't answer immediately. He'd been distracted by her use of the word 'volition'. Smart Ginny was starting to surface more and more these days. He wasn't sure how he felt about her yet. Stupid, Slut Ginny was easier to get along with.

Well, when she wasn't hopping on him whenever the chance arose.

He looked up to find her waiting for his answer. He rolled his eyes, falling back on an obvious, generic answer which required barely any thought.

"Please, _everyone_ is attracted me."

Ginny made a face. "_As if_. I have enough boys to take my pick of without having to resort to _you_." She crossed her legs and started to inspect her nails.

Draco glowered at her for several minutes, a dark expression on his features. Abruptly he sat up. He moved swiftly toward the door, skirting the soapy water buckets. Ginny turned sharply, glancing up at him.

"And where are you going?" She asked, her voice stern – his hand was on the door.

"I've thought of something for your two sisters." Allowing himself a smile of satisfaction, he forced the door open and started through the hall. Ginny ran up to him after a few seconds' deliberation.

They rushed about the mostly abandoned hallways, making for the Fat Lady's portrait. Ginny gave her the password and the two slipped into the Common Room. Unfortunately, it was too early in the morning for many Gryffindors (let alone the twins) to be up. The room was abandoned.

Ginny flopped down into one of the chairs, staring about the room dully. "Well this sucks," she announced bitterly. She began to play with the buttons on her shirt idly, muttering a spell to tighten the shirt about her.

Draco ignored her. He'd grown used to her habit of taking her clothes off, staring at him meaningfully, deciding he was blind and or gay, and then shrugging – regretfully – back into them.

His eyes snagged on a wad of yellow parchment left abandoned on a lopsided end table. At a loss for anything else to do at the moment, he started toward it. He picked it up. It wasn't anything particularly interesting. He glanced back to Ginny,

"What's-?" He broke off. "Really!"

She'd unbuttoned all of her shirt, and had clearly not seen a need to button it back up. She eyed him innocently. "_What_?"

"You're _such _a bloody whore! Could you try not to take your clothes off at whenever you're left alone for three seconds?"

"But it's like…" she rolled her eyes slightly, playing with her hair. Draco groaned. Slut Ginny was back. He found himself nostalgic for the Smart Ginny who "wasn't" attracted to him. "But it's like … boring and…and shit!"

Whatever. Soon he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. All he had to do was get back at the twins, win the war, and then no more hanging around Ginny and her bipolar mood swings. He waved the packet of parchment up for her to see.

"What is this? I've seen Potter running around with it a lot."

"It's parchment … duh." She turned away from him, playing with her undershirt. Draco, deciding serious action must be taken before she ripped that off as well, tried to regain her attention.

"No, it's a map. I've seen him and Six running around with Granger using it – you know, back before he turned all prima-donna on everyone. I've no idea what you do with it…with it though…"

He trailed off. Ginny had pulled her undershirt off, and he couldn't help but stare. It took him several minutes to recover and he stared fervently at a burnt patch of the wallpaper. He didn't know why he was even trying to talk to her. She was retarded or something. Clinically ill. He glared at the parchment. There was a scribble in the upper right hand corner.

"_I solemnly swear I Am. And I alone."_

Potter _would_ find a way to change the spell. Draco sighed, holding his wand out toward the papers.

"I solemnly swear I Am. And I alone."

Ink faded into view along the bundle of papers as the entire layout of Hogwarts came into view. He flipped swiftly through the pages, at last finding the Gryffindor Tower outlined. He could see himself and Ginny. Underneath her proper name was captioned "Brainless Prostitute".

Ron or "Ginger Minion" was up sleeping in the dormitory beside "Irish Henchman" and "Exotic Henchman". Draco frowned slightly when he couldn't find Potter or Granger's names anywhere on the Hogwarts grounds.

Draco scanned all of Hogwarts but could find no trace of either of the twins. His eyes landed back on the Gryffindor Common Room. He froze.

Fredericka and Georgina showed up as being right next to them. He silently cursed Ginny for not warning him.

Draco spun about sharply, stuffing the map into his robes. He nearly choked on his laughter at the sight that greeted him.

The twins were all right. But this time they were half girl, half boy. Evidently, they'd tried to take the curse off themselves … and failed miserably. They'd somehow managed to have the chocolate hex removed; they were holding both their wands without issue. He was laughing too hysterically to even be worried.

Ginny, still half dressed, was snickering too, quite shamelessly. Apparently she didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable at sporting her bra in front of her two…siblings.

"Oh God…" Draco doubled over, finding it difficult to breathe. "Oh God! Here I…" he choked on another fit of giggles, staggering over towards the chair Ginny was lounging in. He waved his hands about and latched onto Ginny who was finding it equally difficult to inhale regulated breaths of air. She lurched forward in a laughing fit, catching onto his arm and shrieking in her amusement.

"And here I was thinking I should – thinking I actually had to _do_ something to get back at you!" Draco broke off again, another fit of laughter seizing him as he motioned to the twins.

Fred still had the overall body of a woman, but with slight changes. His/Her chin was much broader than a woman's and bore a light fringe of ginger stubble. Her eyebrows were somewhat thicker than any self-respecting woman would allow and her eyelashes shorter. Draco noted with evident glee that her arms were covered in what was most definitely masculine hair.

George was an entirely different story. He was split directly down the middle, as if his body couldn't decide whether it was male or female.

Ginny tightened her grasp on Draco's arms, laughing into his stomach, even as he doubled over again.

Draco opened his mouth to insult them, but was overcome by the hilarity of it all. No words could come out.

"Oh yes, so _entertaining_," George glowered, every other word rising and falling in pitch to match the opposing genders.

"So bloody amusing!" Fred seconded – his voice entirely restored – glaring over at the two.

"I suppose you're just _peeing_ yourself!" George's fluctuating voice snapped at them. Draco snorted upon hearing it.

"Hey George!" Fred called out to his equally ridiculous twin.

"Yes, Fred?" came the staged reply.

"I've thought of something equally amusing – they'll be in stitches!"

"Oh will they, George?"

"Of course – how about I show you?" George turned menacingly towards the pair who had fallen to the floor in silent laughter. He/She aimed its wand. "Corpus midgetus Draconis et Ginerva!"

The yellow flash flew toward them, but Draco and Ginny were too preoccupied convulsing in laughter on the floor to take notice of it. It tingled a little when it hit them, but neither really paid attention. It wasn't until something warm and rather squishy wrapped around him that Draco realized the severity of the situation.

He glanced wildly about him, only to realize that the world around him seemed much too large for him.

"Ginny!" He roared out towards her. His voice sounded like a squeak to the twins. Their booming laughter echoed about his ears, and he clasped at them – desperate to muffle the deafening noise. Then he felt the air rushing about him as he realized that he was moving vicariously through whichever twin was clutching on to him.

He pounded his fists against the fingers of the hand which held him, clawing at whatever flesh he could. Fred felt a pricking sensation in his skin. It was useless and Draco didn't bother reaching for his wand – he knew he couldn't even begin to guess at a proper counterspell.

As an act of spite, he bit down furiously at Fred's flesh. He sank his teeth down into the skin of Fred's hand until he tasted blood.

"Ow, you bloody little devil!" Fred switched Draco to the other hand, shaking his bloody finger. "Bite me again, and I'll squeeze you so hard you'll shit in my hands." Draco gulped. He didn't dare to move for some long moments. He felt the a chill night breeze steal through his hair and glanced about swiftly. All around him was dark, he could only faintly see Ginny's outline in George's hand. They were outside, of that much he was sure.

"Where are you taking us?" Draco squeaked up to the monstrous twins.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what? You've got to speak up if you want me to hear you right!" Fred called down jovially to his Ken-sized captive.

Draco fumed silently, feeling the growing urge to sink his teeth into Fred's flesh again. He clamped a hand tightly over his mouth. He didn't want to be squeezed so hard that he'd shit right into Fred's hands.

He could feel the twins conversing to each other by the great vibrations sent rippling through his body but couldn't make out the words. Then, quite abruptly, he was set down on something soft.

He tore free of Fred's monstrous fingers, tripping on something slimy and falling flat on his back. He swore in a rage, pushing himself off what he discovered was a patch of moss. Ginny was dropped, screeching, beside him. Fred and George, monsters towering above them, were grinning.

"Well, I do think this is where our paths separate," George announced, glancing toward his twin for confirmation.

Fred nodded somberly. "I daresay. But you little tykes have fun, you hear?"

"Take care not to get eaten – we'd hate for that to happen!"

"But then again, you never know what'll find you in the Forbidden Forest!"

Without another moment wasted, he and George turned and dashed back up toward the school. The ground shuddered beneath their footfalls.

"_Eww_!"

Draco turned. There was some clinging, green vegetation caught in Ginny's hair. She was shrieking uncontrollably, jumping up and down and shaking her hands uselessly. He made a face and stalked over toward her, wrenching the clump of moss from her head.

She calmed instantaneously.

"Well this is nice." She plopped down happily on the moss, crossing her legs Indian-style and clapping her hands against the green plant. "It's like a squishy bed!" She laughed gleefully, clapping her hands against it all the more. "I claim it – it's mine!"

Draco fought the urge to kick her, and tried to calm himself. Apparently Stupid Ginny was not even remotely concerned with the change in her size. At least she hadn't tried taking her clothes off. Draco cast about him, looking for something – anything that might help.

Ginny was still giggling uncontrollably and playing with the moss. Something wet struck him in the face. He froze, wiping the filth from his cheek with a sneer, and turned to face Ginny. She'd already torn up two more clumps. She sent them flying toward him in quick succession. He managed to dodge the first, but the other hit him full on in the face.

He swore dreadfully. Ginny trilled in euphoria, giggling happily. Draco, calling upon reserves of patience, took a steadying breath.

"We – have – to – get – out – of – here," he managed between gritted teeth.

Ginny's answer was naught but a fit of snickering. She was struggling to wrench up another fistful of moss.

Draco, deciding to nip this in the bud, stalked over to her and pulled her to her feet, emptying her fists of the disgusting clumps of dirt and roots.

"I do _realize_ that Weasleys roll about in filth, but that is no excuse to try forcing your living conditions on me – a _Malfoy_," he spat, disgust wracking his face.

Ginny grinned up at him stupidly. "You liked it."

He groaned in exasperation, flinging his head backward, and yanked her across the moss, not even deigning to give this a response. They moved through the woods.

He was sure it was days they spent in the forest (although dawn had not once shone through the canopy of trees). He was infuriated his servants had not come searching for him. He was incensed that he was stuck in the woods with a Weasley. A stupid, whorish Weasley. A Weasley that couldn't stop grabbing at whatever plant or dirt it came across and flinging it at him with a shriek of glee.

It was several more hours when, abruptly, he stopped. He'd heard the unmistakable din of a nearby battle.

A battle. In Hogwarts. In the Forbidden Forest.

"_For Narnia! AND FOR ASLAN!"_

Epic music broke through the fringe of vegetation and Draco, peering around a massive root, caught sight of a blond sixteen year-old boy waving a sword fiendishly over his head. There was a crash of tambourines and a blare of trumpets as the strains of background music flooded toward them.

Ginny started to hum along with it.

Someone was cursing and the two opposing armies were lurching toward one another. An ancient thing with yellow dreadlocks and rather bad makeup (framed by a crown of ice which towered a foot upward from her head) was whipping angrily down at the snowy polar bears that pulled her carriage across the moss, screaming for them to go faster.

Griffins were vaulting through the sky, dropping rocks down on the army of minotaurs, dwarves, and hags. Centaurs were galloping forward in red and gold livery and a crazed thirteen year-old with black hair was jumping down from an overhanging cliff, two swords brandished in his fists. A wild scream, stemming from a voice that had not yet hit puberty and spiraled up to inhuman heights, tore free of his throat.

He landed on the dreadlocked thing's carriage, shrieking imprecations. His sword shattered her ice staff, breaking it in half, but then she twisted and stabbed up at him with one of its shards, felling him with one blow.

"_EDMUND!_" The scream tore free of the yellow haired boy, who Draco had nearly forgotten about, and the enraged child kicked his steed forward angrily, intent upon killing the she-hag.

"Oh my God, he's so hot," Ginny hissed, leaning slightly toward Draco to share this riveting bit of information. "I could just _marry_ him."

"Shut up he's twelve, you pedophilic slut," Draco retorted angrily.

"No, he is _so_ sixteen. I'm marrying him. It's definitely legal." She took a step forward, trying to chase after the charging horse and its rider. Draco grabbed her by the arms, holding her back from where she would have inevitably been trampled.

"You're twelve inches tall, remember?" he demanded. Ginny was still fighting him, intent on catching the yellow haired boy cursing vehemently up to the sky.

Her quarry was fighting his way toward the witch with the ice headdress, carving his way through the battlefield. Ginny gaped in admiration. Draco glowered.

"_For Aslan!_" the angry child roared again. The dreadlocked hag stepped down from her carriage, the polar bears eyeing her flatly, and moved to face the indignant British boy before her. He held his sword out defiantly, as if daring her to make the first move.

An earth-shattering roar ricocheted across the battlefield. Even the music momentarily stopped. Draco and Ginny turned, along with all others present, to face this newest arrival.

A monstrous lion, two small girls clinging to his mane, leapt forth from the dark fringe of trees and into the clearing, the rising sun streaming down on him. It landed on top of the dreadlocked hag, knocking her to the ground. It set one monstrous paw down on her throat, glaring at her.

"Die, bitch," Its voice was somber. It sounded vaguely like Liam Neeson. One of the little girls clapped a hand over her mouth, paling.

"Why did Aslan call her a female dog, Susan?" she whispered to the older girl.

The witch looked equally confused, but then the lion killed her. Just as a cheer arose from the red and gold army, the ground began to shake. Draco whirled about anxiously, half expecting another enormous feline to come bounding into the glade.

What he saw instead made his jaw gape. The Wild Thing was eagerly charging up towards the now frightened looking lion, a jovial expression etched into what little of its face was visible beneath its tangled beard. It ran right up to the lion (who Draco realized was "Aslan") and scooped Aslan right up into his hairy arms. The girls tumbled, shrieking, from its back. The Wild Thing surveyed the deathly quiet of the battle scene he had just interrupted. He backed slowly away from the scene, even as the lion clawed at his flesh.

No one moved on the battle field, as if frozen in time. Draco felt it was time to leave. He glanced over to Ginny who was still drooling over the blond boy who hadn't moved a muscle since the kidnapping of Aslan.

He grabbed roughly at her arm, dragging her away from the clearing in the woods. Ginny was too bedazzled by the child with obvious anger issues to even notice Draco pulling her off into the trees.

Draco was starting to get annoyed. Ginny was positively useless, and he had no idea where he was going; let alone how to get them back to their proper sizes.

They ran on in silence for some minutes, the sun slowly rising above them. The woods were growing thicker about them and the rocks were slimy underfoot. Draco didn't want to contemplate why. He just needed to escape from the crime scene, lest The Wild Thing return to abduct another unfortunately exotic creature. He vaguely wondered if Dean and Blaise were safe.

Then there was a deafening crack and a flash of sapphire light.

"What the bloody hell _now_?" He trekked over towards the noise with obvious curiosity. Once again, he found himself in a slight clearing. There was a farm boy, fifteen years of age, staring agape at a blue stone in the middle of the grove.

Draco felt as if he had stumbled upon yet _another _epic storyline. He sat back against the root and watched. There was so much random shit in the forest.

Ginny, still confused at being dragged off, followed Draco's gaze. Her legs gave out.

"Oh my _God_ – I LOVE him!"

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes, turning back towards the brown-haired boy in the clearing. The bow dropped from his hands and as he approached the blue stone, Draco heard low music emanating from the boy's bowed figure.

"Duh-nuh duh-nuh…duh-nuh-DUH-NUH-DUHNUH-DUHH-NUHH!" He realized it was the boy. He had latched his dirt-encrusted hands upon the once-spotless sapphire stone, lifting it high above his head. The tempo increased and grew louder as he did so. Spit began to fly from his mouth.

"_Doh-nuh DOH-NOH DOH-NOOOOOHHHHHH! ! ! !"_

Ginny turned to face Draco. "Can I marry him?"

"What you're impressed by _that_?" Draco motioned furiously back towards the boy who had started to sway back and forth, the stone still held above his head.

Then the "music" stopped. The boy glanced about sharply, as if realizing his private moment had been infringed upon. His fingers scrabbled towards the bow he had so carelessly tossed aside moments before. Then he loosed an arrow.

Draco felt an exploding pain erupt from his leg.

"_FUCK! ! ! !" _He roared, grabbing at his impaled leg. But, the crazed farm boy was staring at him with a practiced eye, another arrow notched.

"I must bring food back to my family, Garrow and Roran – even if it a couple of squirrels." Oh, so apparently it spoke, rather than communicating through grunted song. Draco whipped out his wand and screamed up towards the grime-covered boy.

"Stupefy!" The boy was flung backward into a tree, muttering something about knowing he shouldn't have gone hunting in the Spine. Then Draco felt another bout of pain. He glanced down to see Ginny had ripped the gargantuan arrow from his leg. He swore ferociously at her, even as she muttered something, her palm aglow.

"Waíse heill!" Then all the pain was gone, his wound had somehow been entirely healed.

"What the fuck?" Draco erupted at her. "What the _fuck _was that? We were never taught that!"

But apparently Smart-Ginny was back, for she was already pulling him away in some unknown direction.

"I read it in a book."

"Wait, wait. That's not realistic, now is it? You _read_?"

"Yes, I _read, _you asshole. It's the Inheritance Cycle…and that was Eragon. I _love _Eragon!" Her voice had started to sound detached again, and when Draco looked at her face, he saw that her eyes had a glazed look about them.

They tripped over a series of convoluted and tangled vines more than four times their size. Ginny lost her footing and dragged Draco down with her. He cursed even as they tumbled down toward what looked like an enormous lake.

It was really just a rain puddle.

"Hell!" Draco was struggling to breathe, the cold water sweeping over him even as he cast about for proper footing. "Oh God I can't swim!"

Ginny was in a similar predicament for about thirty seconds. Then she stood up and they discovered they were only in waist-deep water.

They waded out, soaking wet and rather cold. Ginny was all for collapsing underneath a nearby fern but Draco, intent on escaping the horrifying wood and its tangled storylines, forced her onward.

The day dragged by slowly. The sun started to sink over the horizon. Draco was exhausted. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up. Ginny had long since stopped trying and had flung her arm about Draco's neck, using him as a pseudo pack-animal to transport her through the woods.

The sun set, leaving them in darkness, and Ginny's stomach rumbled obstinately. Draco glared at her.

"How the hell are you hungry?" he demanded.

"How the hell are you _not_?" she snapped back. She withdrew her wand. "Accio pumpkin pie!"

Draco crossed his arms. "Really? _That's_ what you decide to summon."

She gave him a withering glance, sitting down on a mushroom and crossing her legs as she waited for the dessert to arrive. "I'm not asking you to eat it."

He didn't dignify this with a response. The pie arrived seconds later and Ginny, still perched on the mushroom, set about eating it. Then she paused, as if remembering something. She withdrew her wand again. "Accio whipped cream!"

Draco glanced heavenward for patience.

It was another half hour before they got going again. By then it was completely dark and they could hardly see. Draco had to hold his wand aloft as a flashlight (after having made good use of _Lumos_) and still it was hard to make out where they were headed.

It seemed that the night had nearly dragged itself entirely by before an orange light flickered somewhere through the mess of trees and overgrown plants. Draco let out a sigh of relief.

"At last! Hogwarts!"

Ginny made no answer. He glanced toward her. She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, her right arm still latched tightly about his neck. He'd been dragging her the last mile entirely by himself. He kicked her. She woke up.

"What the-"

"If anyone should be carrying anyone here, it's you carrying _me_!" he snapped, quite cross from their trying day. He threw her arm from his neck. "Now start walking! We're nearly there!" He motioned toward the orange light.

They started forward eagerly, the thought of finally having found Hogwarts revitalizing them and supplying them with new energy. Draco was already planning his bath. He'd open up that new soap he'd imported from India. And he'd get a masseuse in as well.

A few more minutes passed and they'd managed to cover a grand total of twenty feet. But the orange light was clearer now. It was flickering, as if it were a fire. Draco frowned a little. Now that he thought about it, it didn't really much look like Hogwarts at all.

It was an enormous rock face. A cliff with something resembling ruins on top of it. There was a small overhang weathered away by the wind on its side. A campfire flickered against the darkness of the forest, and they could see four dark silhouettes.

"Nice, crispy bacon!"

"We saved some for you, Mr. Frodo!"

"Put it out you fools – put it out!" A boyish shriek rang out through the darkness.

"Steady on-!"

"Well I say-!"

Abruptly the fire winked out. They were plunged into darkness. Draco flung his head back, groaning.

"No. _No_. I am not dealing with this!"

"Dealing with what?" Ginny asked, sounding much too happy considering their predicament. Draco peered at her through the darkness.

She'd sat down on the forest floor. She was playing with a clod of dirt. He raised his eyes heavenward. He couldn't take this. Not now. Not in this forest. Not with all this insanity about him.

Screams rang out from the cliff. Ginny didn't even notice, she was giggling and tossing the dirt from one hand to another. Against his will, Draco found himself turning back in the direction of Weathertop.

The hobbits had scrambled up to its height, brandishing swords. They were huddled together in a clump. The Nazgûl were already converging on them.

"Oh my God! Dementors!" Suddenly Ginny was on her feet. She clutched at his arm. "Quick! Expecto Patronus them! _It's the only way to save the little people_!" She finished in a frantic shriek, her frighteningly strong grip cutting off the circulation in his arm.

Draco rounded on her in a right temper. "Oh hell no!" He pushed her off of him again, barely cognizant of the rage coursing through his veins. That was too much. "_Hell_ no. Those are Nazgûl!" he motioned toward the shapes even as they stabbed Frodo. The hobbit's scream rent the air. Draco was lost in his tirade.

"J.K.R. stole that from Tolkien! He had the idea first! Nazgûl are infinitely more original than _dementors_. That's something a slut comes up with. What sort of a monster _snogs_ you? She might as well have dressed them in pink fluff and been done with it!" he finished slightly more out of breath than he had been when he started.

Ginny eyed him blankly.

An enormous boot landed in a puddle beside them. Draco gave a shout of surprise and leapt aside. The dark figure was already charging past them, flaming torches held in either hand, and making for the cliff. The earth shuddered under his footfalls.

Hardly a minute later, a fiendish cry broke through the darkness. The man with the torches had gained the height of Weathertop and had already set two of the robed things on fire. The "dementors" were screaming in agony. It made Draco's flesh crawl, but Ginny seemed bored.

"_Gawwwd_ can we just go? I am so _tired_. Don't you know the way back to Hogwarts?"

Draco stared at her. "_No_," he finally managed. More screaming broke out from the ruined tower. One of the fatter short things was saying something about "master". Draco briefly wondered if Ron had somehow crept up there, unnoticed.

Ginny rolled her eyes, flicking her hair uselessly. "Ugh. This sucks." She started hopping up and down. It was a moment before Draco realized she was trying to grab at an overhanging flower. It was more than the size of her head.

"Come on," he grabbed at her arm, pulling her off through the woods.

This time it was hardly another ten minutes before they were interrupted in their passage through the woods. Draco was relieved to see it was only Voldemort. He didn't think he could handle another storyline just then.

The would-be-overlord of the Wizarding World was doubled over an enormous cauldron, cackling slightly as he stirred its contents with a monstrous spoon.

A magical fire hovered above the ground in the center of the glade, illuminating it in a yellow light. Dumbledore, several four-leaf clover necklaces adorning his frame, lay sprawled out on his back just beside it, his hands folded neatly over his stomach. A pipe, smoking green, rested in his mouth. He stared happily up at the starry sky.

"But how does this make?" Dumbledore queried, nonchalantly speaking about his pipe. Voldemort made no answer. He danced a little as he skipped off to a misshapen bag and untied it. He started to rummage through it, the firelight reflecting off his bald head.

Dumbledore mused on as if Voldemort had answered him readily enough. "It's an unhealthy obse," he paused, letting out a stream of green smoke. "I feel it is responsible for your current appearance, Tom Marvol." Again, he seemed nonplussed at the abrupt end in his speech.

Voldemort had withdrawn what looked to be a lock of black hair. He scampered back to the cauldron, dropping it in with a gleeful laugh. He clapped his corpse-like hands together.

"Harry Potter does not seem to reciprocate your," Dumbledore continued. "In fact, I was there at his wedding with Miss."

Voldemort was in the act of sniffing one of the leftover strands of messy black hair. The euphoric expression faltered only a moment as he looked to Dumbledore. "Oh I don't have any issues with home wrecking." He twirled off toward the lumpy bag once more, humming Fergie's "London Bridge".

Dumbledore smiled bemusedly. "Now now, let's not bring Harry's home into."

"Bloody Hell!" Ginny shrieked, suddenly realizing who they had stumbled in on. "It's You-Know-Who!" She looked sharply to Draco as if for confirmation. He was glowering at her, his arms folded. She struck him on the arm. "Well go on! Do something! They could like… get us back to the school!"

"Or, and I'm just guessing here, he might," Draco sucked in a mock gasp, "oh I don't know_. Kill_ us?"

Ginny, ignoring Draco entirely, pulled out her wand and waved it about sharply. "_Lumos_!" Silvery light plumed from her wand and she charged into the clearing, shaking her glowing wand about her head as she tried to get the attention of the much larger two by the cauldron.

"Oh!" Dumbledore let out an excited trill, crawling forward stealthily on all fours. He paused almost right in front of the pair.

Ginny waved her wand about frantically, adding in a few jumbled words to the mix.

"A four-leaf clover!" The headmaster's voice rang out happily. He plucked said vegetation and pocketed it.

Draco let out an exasperated groan, rolling his eyes pointedly in Ginny's direction. Ginny narrowed her eyes at Draco and without waiting another moment, marched over Dumbledore's prostrate form. The headmaster had flipped over onto his back, pedaling his legs in the air as he threw about a green ball which Draco could only guess was made of clovers. A low purring emanated from his general direction. Then a small shriek.

Draco took a double take. Ginny had bitten Dumbledore. Quite viciously in fact, for he was bleeding.

"Agh – well I." Dumbledore looked curiously down at Ginny, disregarding his flowing wound. Ginny had climbed her way onto his chest and her hands were on her hips as she glared up at Dumbledore.

"Do you mind _fixing _us? Or do I need to bite you again?"

"Ooohhh – Dumbliedore! Have you found me a Barbie to play with? Oh, no! You _shouldn't _have! Gimme gimme!" Voldemort clapped his hands together excitedly, his lips pulling up into a ghastly simper.

Behind said dark-lord, a loud groan rang out. Draco fixed his eyes from where the sound had emitted. A strange pair were situated around a massive trunk, held together by mounds upon mounds of gooey, silly string. It took all of his self control not to laugh.

"_Potter_?" Draco cried out, incredulous. The male figure tied to the tree fixed his hazel eyes on the blond boy before him.

"Do I _know _you?" Shot out an imperious voice. It sounded nothing like Harry's.

"Oh, dear God. Tell me they haven't made you like Ginny too. You know," Draco dropped his voice to a low murmur, so the redhead in question wouldn't hear, "losing your brain every three seconds."

"Of course not, you twit! I have a _perfect _grasp of memory!" The figure was miffed, sniffing slightly. He looked away from Draco, disgusted. Then Draco's eyes landed on the shape beside him.

"How dare you talk to my husband like that!" It was the red-haired woman beside him that had spoken.

"Oh, shut up, Lily! Stop killing my moment! It's not every day I get a new toy as feisty as THIS one! !" Voldemort cut in swiftly, turning slightly to look back at her. He'd picked up Ginny and was shaking her back and forth in his spidery hands. He began laughing maniacally, twirling about in circles, raising his face to the sky.

"Let go of me, you giant oaf!" Ginny shrieked, clawing at Voldemort's hands with a righteous fury.

Draco started towards Ginny and the dark-lord. A massive, hard yellow object suddenly came hurtling toward him, blocking out what little light there was.

"Bloody –" Draco dodged narrowly to the left, swearing as he did so. He whirled about to face the headmaster, who tittered, rolling over onto his back again. He once more assumed the task of running his feet in the air above him, clawing at some imaginary being. Draco noticed, with ever narrowing eyes, the slingshot which Dumbledore had cast aside in his fit of giggles. There was an opened tin of candies lemon drops beside the weapon. A few of the enormous yellow candies had been scattered across the grass – missed attempts, Draco concluded.

"Let – me – go, you overgrown worm! !" Ginny started waving her wand about madly, muttering incoherently all the while. With a sudden blast of light, she was sent flying out of Voldemort's hands. She landed with a muffled gasp on Draco, sending him collapsing to the ground.

"Geroff me, Weasel!" Draco glowered up to Ginny, his voice muffled from underneath her.

"What was that, Ferret? Sorry, I can't quite hear you," Ginny called down snidely to him as she pushed herself from him. The kick which she aimed towards him did not go unnoticed by the bedraggled Draco. He shot her a death glare, smoothing out his robes.

"My dollie's no fun!" Voldemort complained, stomping his foot. He pranced over towards Dumbledore and grabbed the headmaster's hand in his own. "Buy me a new one, Daddy!"

Dumbledore gave Voldemort a pitying glance. "Oh, Voldemort. How many times must I tell? I am not your." He patted the dark-lord affectionately before removing his hand from Voldemort. He motioned lazily over towards what Draco had assumed was an older version of Harry. "My only son is."

"You know that's right," came the reply from the tree to which 'Harry' was strapped to.

"Wait, wait. _Harry Potter _is your son?" Draco asked disbelievingly, rounding on 'Harry'. And weren't you married to Granger last I checked?"

"You must be out of your damn mind!" The dark-haired man looked remarkably affronted. He'd raised his eyebrows imperiously and was eyeing Draco with such condescension that the boy nearly took a step back. "I am _James _Potter. And my boy is married, how cheery! Shame we missed the wedding, eh?" James narrowed his eyes pointedly toward Voldemort.

The overgrown worm in question pretended not to notice, and continued filing his nails.

"Ooh! Is that her? She is a red-head like me, so it makes sense!" Lily trilled from beside her husband, glancing over towards Ginny questioningly.

"_No_," Draco glared mutinously back at Lily, affronted that she would assume Ginny would marry _Pothead_.

"Well that's not canon," Lily sniffed. "_Clearly _my son has some twisted Oedipus complex with this strange girl who has been obsessed with him since she could walk. Not that she's ever managed to speak a word to him, mind you."

"You know that's right," James repeated. "You'd think he would fall for a girl he'd befriended since age eleven, who has stood by his side throughout all the years, even when his best friend might abandon him for no apparent reason other than that he misses his mother's cooking. You know, a girl that chose his side every _single time _an argument arose between him and said ginger-best-friend. You know, a girl he went _back in time _with, and did not mention to random-ginger-best-friend. Perhaps the girl that his first girlfriend had such issues with – and the same girl whose foreign Quidditch-playing-beaux assumed that they had a little sum'in-sum'in goin' on between them. A girl he'd have _several _choice hugging moments with if his life had been televised. None of which did this girl have with stupid-random-ginger-best-friend. But ah, I see their argument: it's much more natural for my boy to fall for a girl who looks exactly like his mum. Even though she isn't mentioned in most of his life," James sniffed disdainfully.

Crickets.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Draco accused, glaring at the pair.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" James stood up from where he sat at the base of the tree.

"Ooh! That's my fault, I'm afraid." Voldemort announced, prancing over towards his bag. Draco noticed that it was filled to the brim with various effects of Harry's. "You see, I chanced upon them having such a _great _TV-worthy family moment, that I…well I couldn't _kill _them! What kind of monster would that make me? Besides, Harry would hate me if I _really _had. And I've got them securely fastened as it is!" Voldemort motioned over towards where James had stood from his "securely fastened" prison of sticky glue.

"Anyway, they're helping me learn everything I possibly can about Harry!" Voldemort paused from where he hovered over the cauldron. He turned to face Draco, fluttering his eyes. "I'm making a love potion. Harry will fall in love with me."

Dumbledore coughed at this, giving Voldemort a furtive glance.

"What?" Draco burst out. "That's the only thing you've got an issue with here?" He motioned pointedly at his and Ginny's miniature forms.

Voldemort sighed sentimentally. "Dear Dumb-ly-door has been counseling me these past ten years." He smiled slightly as he reminisced.

"Yes, I." Dumbledore chimed in, "I have managed to cure him of his pedophilia entirely, which is quite an. Now, however, I must return to my. He has been harboring more than friendly feelings towards dear Harry since he saw him in Fourth. I have returned to counseling him, this time on homosexuality – it does not become a dark." Dumbledore glanced fondly over towards Voldemort, even as the dark-lord resumed tossing in Harry's possessions to the cauldron below. "I think his lessons are going quite well, if I may say." Dumbledore resumed smoking his clovers as he stared up at the mass of branches above.

"Yes, it's going quite well," Ginny seconded, her voice acidic. "Would _you mind _returning us to our normal size, now? Or is that too much of a bother!" Smart, angry Ginny had returned. Draco gave her a silent huzzah.

"True." Dumbledore removed the pipe from his mouth, sitting up. "It is much of a bother, I'm." Dumbledore sighed, withdrawing his clover-entwined wand from his robes and pointed it towards the two.

"Planto illa duos amplus quam vita. Vel suum Northmanni amplitudo tunc!"

Draco's skin felt as if it was being blown up with excessive amounts of air – almost like a balloon. He resisted the urge to scratch himself as he began to grow bigger and bigger. Then instantaneously it stopped. It took Draco several moments to realize he had been set back to normal. Beside him, Ginny let out a screech of joy.

Before Draco realized what was happening Ginny had flung her arms around him in a tight embrace, knocking the breath from his lungs.

"Malfoy – we're back to normal!" She squealed, hugging him all the tighter. Draco returned the hug, as best as one could when having the life squeezed from them, before the two realized what they were doing. Ginny released her grasp on him instantaneously, her cheeks burning a hue to match her hair. Draco smirked slightly, even as the two looked as far away as they could from the other.

"Do you think they're in denial?" Lily whispered quietly over towards her husband.

"You know that's right," James's voice was a whisper shout. "They're the modern day Romeo and Juliet!"

"Ah, young." Dumbledore smiled brightly at Draco and Ginny. "When are you going to?" The headmaster looked at them with sparkling eyes.

A sudden cackling erupted from beside the cauldron, and Draco's bitter reply died in his throat. A vibrant pink plume of smoke had exploded, encasing Voldemort and dyeing his skin a matching color.

"It is finished." Voldemort announced ominously, rummaging in his bag for what, Draco knew not.

"I do believe my counseling is done here, wouldn't?" Dumbledore rose to his feet to face Voldemort.

"I would." Voldemort shouted over his back as he continued to wildly toss objects about.

"Aufero homo suus gaus!" Dumbledore commanded, his wand twirling about in intricate patterns.

A shriek rent the air as a bright silver light engulfed Voldemort, swarming about him, causing him to glow. Several moments passed before the blinding light evaporated and the group in the clearing could safely open their eyes.

What Draco saw caused his jaw to drop.

"Tom," Ginny whispered softly, instinctively clutching Draco's hand.

The dark-lord had been returned to the glory of his youth, to the form of Tom Marvolo Riddle. No longer was he the bald, shriveled, slinking creature with slits for red eyes.

Draco wondered why Dumbledore hadn't just used the spell in the first ... ten years ago.

Tom was sniffing about himself cautiously. He lifted a hand to his face. Seeing that it was a _normal_ human hand, and not the gray, taut skinned mush he was accustomed to brought laughter to his lips.

"_Merlin_!" He breathed euphorically, running his hand through his hair. "Merlin I'm back!" He laughed again, spinning a little and inspecting himself. He looked back to Dumbledore, beaming. "I – I don't even know what to say!"

The cauldron behind him _blurped_ faintly. Tom hardly noticed.

"Oh this is _brilliant_!" He spun about again, his robes twirling. "Oh I won't even bother plotting against the Order for a whole month!" He clasped his hands together, smiling winningly at them all. His aura was practically radiating sunlight and moonbeams. Draco felt a little sick at the disgustingly cheery Riddle before them.

Tom was rummaging through his robes for his wand. "Hell, I shan't even use a timeturner to have one of my horcruxes kill you like it was supposed to last year!" He burst out laughing again, clearly far happier at his return to heterosexuality than any of them had expected.

To the news concerning his escaped demise, Dumbledore showed no response. He was still nodding agreeably to everything Tom said.

Tom continued on. "Albus, I give you my wholehearted thanks." He favored Dumbledore with a grin.

Dumbledore smiled benignly, withdrawing the clover pipe from his mouth ever so briefly to nod his head in deference. "Go get her, m'. Go get Bellatrix Lestrange, Tom Rid."

Tom was nodding his head vigorously. "I shall!"

Without any further adieu, he apparated out. The resounding _crack_ echoed through the clearing. James coughed from behind the silly string bonds that restrained him and Lily to the tree.

"So, ahem, where does this put us?" he jerked his head meaningfully between himself and his wife.

Dumbledore was still smiling nonsensically, a vacant look in his watery eyes. Green smoke plumed up around him. "I agree," he managed.

He turned and, still smoking furiously at his pipe, traipsed off through the wood. He disappeared into the curling mist that had, unnoticed, crept in around them. There was a crack a moment later as he apparated out.

James and Lily were still "tied" to the tree.

Draco and Ginny still stood awkwardly between them and the smoking pink cauldron.

There was a long silence that dragged out for some seconds. Draco looked toward Ginny. "I'm going to be watching you and that cauldron, you know."

Ginny's head whipped toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, a sneer on his features. "_Everyone _knows that you snuck Potter a love potion in the _Halfblood Prince_! I mean an _"animal ripping through his chest_"? It's not exactly as if you were portrayed as attractive in that book!"

"FIE!"

They both turned sharply in the direction of the indignant shout. James had torn free of his "bonds" and withdrawn his wand which, apparently, he had had the whole duration of his captivity.

"Fie on you, you filthy little harlot! Sneaking a potion of romantic fervor into the circulatory system of my boy! _FIE_!"

Not even Draco had been expecting this. "Er…"

Lily was up in an instant as well. She slapped Ginny before any of them could react.

"What the hell?" Ginny managed. Then Lily kicked her in the shins.

Draco pulled Lily off of Ginny before she could continue mauling the shins of the girl beneath her. Ginny pushed herself back up to her feet somewhat unsteadily, a glint in her eyes, and Lily pushed Draco off roughly. She sniffed and ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it.

"She's not worth my time," she concluded, her nostrils flaring slightly as she glanced toward Ginny. It reminded Draco of a dragon, which then reminded him of McGonnagal.

James, still holding his wand, pursed his lips and looked the other way. It soon became evident that he was giving both Ginny and Draco the Silent Treatment.

"Come on, James, let's go," Lily announced commandingly, looking to her husband. James nodded his head sharply, still refusing to look at either Ginny or Draco.

"Yes, it is time we found our boy and warned him of the harlots that litter these woods." He paused, a few moments passed. "And told him we were still alive and had been for the last seventeen years and hadn't felt the need to contact or inform him in any manner and instead left him to live with the Dursleys, a most foul and boring folk, in Privet Drive."

"Yes, that," Lily agreed. Casting one last, withering look in Ginny's direction, she withdrew her own wand. With a _crack_ both she and James apparated out.

Draco and Ginny were alone in the clearing, the cauldron still smoking behind them.

It was then that Draco remembered he'd found Harry's map and still had it in his pocket. Feeling very much like Ginny on a bad brain day, he withdrew it somewhat ashamedly. Ginny glared at him.

"Really? You had it the whole time! Malfoy, you git, you did this on purpose!" She kicked him in the shins. Draco swore and grabbed at his foot. Ginny was eyeing him menacingly.

"Why – the _hell_ would I plan this? _Four and Five_ did this!"

"You just wanted to make me run around the woods with you because you're a sick, narcisstic, pervert bastard!" She drew her finger out in a menacing line. "Just because I hang out with you for a few days doesn't mean that my feelings are anything less than hatred for you!"

"Oh just go back to fighting with yourself," Draco sneered, unfolding the map. "I could just as easily leave you here."

There was silence as Ginny considered this.

Draco withdrew his wand. "I solemnly swear I Am. And I alone."

They walked off in silence, Draco holding the map up in front of himself.

**A/N:**

**Thanks to all for sticking with the story and for all your reviews! I really do appreciate them :)**

**Chris Ti:** haha yeah, I promise more Blaise and Dean! They'll be funny, I just love writing them. Thanks for sticking with the story for so long!

**YouWon'tForgetMe:** I know, I almost think I like them better as girls :) Thanks for reviewing!

**Enrique4Sal:** Thanks! But yeah, I can't really believe that no one's done it before - so I'm happy mine's the first one I've come across that's done it :)

**melanie f:** lol, I'm sorry :( Maybe later ... Cuz you know, HHr always has to be first. In whatever fashion. Besides, D/G have to have a few more trials before they get places. It's funny that way :) Thanks for reviewing, and it's no problem about the caps - I do it too!

**hhrFTW:** Yeah, I started out the story with the intention of Blaise being a boy, but then my sister came up with the idea for Blaise to be a girl and we went with it. I think I was hoping Blaise would be a girl in the debate, I don't remember. Mhm, don't know how I feel about Neville though. Traditionally, I only go him/Ginny if Draco's dead. I love D/G too much :) In terms of the clovers and Aberforth, I think I'll leave the interpreting to you and _Captain-Obvious_. Thanks for reviewing!

**Captain-Obvious:** haha, your review made me laugh - in a good way :) But I'll leave that interpretation to you and _hhrFTW_. Thanks for reviewing!


	9. Chapter Eight: Dirty Little Secrets

**Chapter Eight: Dirty Little Secret(s)**

It was raining. Draco hated the rain. It affected his hair. He ran a hand over the yellow locks protectively, though there was no possible way the rain could reach him. He was watching it through the window after all.

Or, more accurately, _glaring_ at it through the window.

"Draco, come on! It's time for a picnic!"

He swung about sharply, at the noise. It was Ginny that had appeared in the doorway to his room. For several moments, he was unsure of how he should react.

How the devil had she found the Slytherin Dungeons? How the _devil_ did she know their password? How had she even found the boys dormitories? More importantly, how had she found _his_ dormitory?

"The hell, Weasley!" he exploded.

Ginny made a face, taking a firm grip of his arm and pulling him forcefully from the window where he had been sourly watching the weather.

"We're going outside for a picnic."

"Outside?" Draco repeated, spitting slightly in his disbelief. She was still dragging him toward the door. "A _picnic_? Do you not see the torrents of rain outside?"

Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "Stop being a wimp." She snorted at his expression, rolling her eyes slightly. "Figures, you're a Slytherin," she was propelling him in the direction of the hall. "Slytherins aren't the 'outdoors' type." She eyed him meaningfully as they paused on the threshold. "They don't have backbones."

Draco glowered at her. "After yesterday I've no intentions of ever going outside again in my life!"

"Oh come _on_!" she started pulling him into the hallway again. "Everyone else is outside! _Nothing_ is going to happen."

"And why the hell would _everyone else_ be outside?" Draco retorted sharply. She was yanking him down the stairs and into the Slytherin Common Room. It was abandoned of its customary students. Not even Crabbe and Goyle, who hardly moved from their sedentary lives on its couches, were to be seen. Draco frowned a little. Bloody henchmen were so difficult to manage these days. No reliability whatsoever. He'd have to contact the underling offices about this.

"Well because of the _war_ of course," Ginny replied cheerily, as if this were obvious enough news.

Draco stopped walking in front of the door leading out to the dungeons. Ginny stamped her foot impatiently.

"What now?"

Draco's mind was still reeling. The war. Lucius had always spoken of it. Of the day when Voldemort would lead them forth in the crusade against the Twilight fan-girls. And then Stephenie Meyer herself.

He wasn't sure if he was ready. He wasn't sure if he was prepared to see them in all their gruesome horror. He'd heard of the bloody feuds between those that called themselves Team Jacob and Team Edward. He'd heard of the _deaths_.

"You're such a little girl, Malfoy!" Ginny's voice broke through his reverie. She was pulling him through the hallway at a maddened pace. They were already nearing the doors leading forth from the castle.

"Wait!" he managed to croak, trying to calm his nerves and the twisting of his stomach. "Wait, I'm not ready!"

Ginny didn't hear him … or was simply ignoring him. She flung the doors wide and wrenched him out into the torrential downpour. He nearly slipped on the wet stairs, but Ginny was herding him toward the lake.

Congregations of Hogwarts students littered the lawn, little umbrellas charmed to hover in the air above their picnic quilts. He caught sight of the Patil twins and Ernie Macmillian. Hannah Abbot was not far off, tittering happily with other, inconsequential Hufflepuffs.

Even the staff was out. Flitwick was gamboling about the plains, the stupid 'Aberforth' goat prancing after him, and Professor Sprout was dining on a blanket beside a choice group of howling mandrakes. The sound was excruciating.

Draco took a double take, his eyes latching back onto the herbology professor. She was eating them. The mandrakes. Eating them _alive_.

Firenze, replacement Divination teacher for the "chastised" Trelawney, was conversing slowly with Madame Pince. They were having an argument of sorts but, other than that disagreement, it seemed relatively calm. Not like a warzone at all. Draco wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd been trained for screaming fangirls, crazed teens whose high frequency decibels could deafen even the most advanced of bats. But this was a picnic. A casual outing.

Albeit in a rainstorm.

He could hardly make out Ginny dragging him down some unknown course, their feet leaving muddy footprints in the soaked and crumpled grass. He could already _feel_ his hair being affected. God he was going to kill her.

Snape darted across his vision. The potions' master seemed to have regrown his hair completely. Draco faintly wondered if the rain was to his liking, what with the Slytherin's fixation with oil and all.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Snape howled, a blast of red light igniting the air before his wand.

Draco jumped, taken off guard. Snape's spell blasted in the direction of a vaguely familiar pale fellow. The man darted aside lithely, his gray cloak billowing, and a bloodcurdling howl tore over the lawns. A monstrous wolf flew through the air toward Snape.

Ginny was laughing and pulling Draco along as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

"What the hell?" Draco wasn't sure she could even hear him over the thunder.

"And _the ORIGINAL pranksters_ are in the lead with a point for WEREWOLF! LAKE-MONSTER'S down, but he's getting up, bless him! Yes, yes, LAKE-MONSTER is on the offensive! Oh God WEREWOLF, look out!" A collective groan echoed over the clearing as something red flashed dimly from the direction of the lake. The commentator, whose identity was yet unknown, swore into whatever instrument he was using to amplify his voice.

"_Gin!_ Drackie!" Clapping made Draco, who had been peering through the rain in the direction of the voice and the light, turn.

George sat on a comforter, his legs folded Indian style, clapping his hands together happily. Fred looked equally pleased to see their enemies in pranking. The gray rain was still barreling down on them in torrents. It was almost funny watching it magically flung aside as it came in contact with the charmed quilt upon which both beaming twins sat.

"Good, you made it!" Fred's voice was inaudible in the crash of thunder. It was only because of an inherent, and distinctly Malfoy, skill at reading lips that Draco could make out what it was he said.

"We were beginning to wonder if you'd be trapped in that forest forever," George lowered his voice conspiratorially. Fortunately the storm seemed to have reached a lull in the near constant explosions of sound from above.

"WEREWOLF is down!" the announcement was more like a wail. "My God, what if LAKE-MONSTER eats him? No, it's too much! Get up, WEREWOLF! Get up!"

"Well we managed to get out," Ginny retorted, settling her hands onto her hips. Water was dripping down in a near constant stream from her wrists. Her hair was already plastered to her head. "No thanks to you."

"Now, Gin, don't rain on our Peace Picnic with all your negativity," Fred answered, shaking his head.

The sky ignited in a blast of lightning, nearly burning Draco's retinas entirely, and another crash of thunder echoed cacophonously above them hardly a moment later. A howl transcended the din of the storm, sounding most lupine in nature, and there was a filthy oath as someone screamed in pain. The twins and, quite frankly, everyone else seemed unperturbed.

"Peace Picnic?" Ginny repeated flatly, unimpressed. The twins nodded winningly.

"Yes. We've decided," George glanced toward his brother. Fred cleared his throat.

"We've decided that it's immature to settle our differences in a prank war."

"Why fight when we can _eat_?" George asked reasonably.

Fred patted the quilted blanket. "Take a seat," he looked over toward Draco and Ginny. The sky burned white again.

"No!" Draco snorted.

The twins sighed, glancing toward each other as if they had expected this. It was George that spoke. "Now, Drackie, _just_ because we shrunk you and left you in the Forbidden Forest doesn't give you any reason to be snippy … least of all bitter."

"I mean, you turned us into bloody _girls_," Fred hissed, his expression dark. Flitwick pranced by, his goat following. There was a jingle of bells even as a scarlet blast plumed up above the shore of the lake. A roar ricocheted over the hill.

"Yes, and _you_ made me stupid and plastered toffee on my arse!" Ginny spat back, pointing her finger accusatorially between the two. "You tried forcing us to get married!"

George was mimicking her with a sneer, his face contorted as he mutely mouthed out the words. Fred rolled his eyes. "And _we_ got turned into he-she's and got hexed with a chocolate touch."

"Which was actually quite fun," George admitted. Fred elbowed him.

"We. Will. Not. Have. A. Bloody. Peace. Picnic. With. You," Ginny hissed, punctuating each word with a vicious poke at George's forehead. Her brother eyed her mutinously.

"Oh well that's a shame," Fred announced sadly, shifting slightly so that she had a better view of the meals on the quilt.

"Because we've got all this pumpkin pie, éclair, chocolate pudding, lemon meringue, lime cream-"

Ginny had already plopped down beside them after the mention of the éclair, grabbing at whatever was nearest her defensively. She paused, slightly abashed, when she saw Draco's expression.

"Sorry," she muttered. Then she started to eat.

Fred glanced toward Draco. "Come on, Drackie…"

"…we've got chocolate mousse!" George sang out, holding the dessert up for Draco to see.

Draco's arms remained stubbornly crossed over his chest. He glared down at them all through the rain. "No. You turned me into a ginger. No amount of _food_ is going to make me forget that."

"I understand," Fred's voice was solemn. "It's not easy being a ginger."

"But we've got Reese's," George whispered. He'd learned forward slightly from where he sat, holding the chocolate and peanut butter treat up in both his hands.

Draco froze. They knew. How could they know? How could they know of his obsession for the Muggle produced sweet? That his pureblood hands had been tainted by products of the un-magical world? He could already feel his face flaming red, despite the rainwater streaming off of it.

He sank down onto the blanket beside Ginny, wordlessly taking the offered candy from George. He broke open the packaging and glumly started to eat it, refusing to meet any of their eyes.

Around them, the war was still raging. And the storm was too.

"Now see, what we have here is a battle," Fred announced, shifting in his seat so that he faced the lake.

There was a distant flash of light and a shriek. Draco and Ginny continued to eat. George was eyeing the signs of violence near the shore.

"A battle between old people," the other twin concluded.

"And JAMES: the ORIGINAL Harry Potter is up again! He's gaining on the LAKE-MONSTER! He's gaining – gaining … _got him_!"

"Go Dad!" Harry's roar sounded across the hill. Draco glanced in the direction of the voice.

Harry and Hermione, back from wherever it was they had disappeared to after their wedding, were both seated on a hovering quilt, a monstrous umbrella suspended over them. Harry was seated eagerly on the edge of the blanket, Hermione just adjacent to him, playing with his hair. Harry did another fist pump for his father, before he returned to clenching the blanket until his knuckles turned white as he peered through the rain towards the flashing lights.

"Yes, apparently Lupin and Sirius and James are all back from wherever it was they were hiding," Fred mused.

"And now they're battling Dumbledore, McGonnagal, and Snape for possession of the Chamber of Secrets."

"No one knows why."

"And _Trelawney: The Undead_ is their cheerleader," George added.

"Well, ZEH MUTANT's cheerleader," Fred corrected. George nodded, helping himself to more pie.

"Lily's cheering for James's side."

"Bo-ring," Fred chimed.

"Wait, I thought Trelawney died?" Ginny managed, swallowing éclair.

George waved his hand. "Thus … _The Undead_," he donned a mock horror voice.

As if to second his words, a ragged thing with wild hair and gleaming eyes lurched past them, waving a pair of black, glowing pom-poms about herself.

"LAKE MONSTER! LAKE MONSTER! LAKE MONSTER!" she tripped on a slippery patch of grass, landing in mud. For a moment Draco thought she'd died. It didn't stop him from unwrapping the second Reese's.

But then she'd pulled herself back to her feet and, mud-encrusted, tore down the hill in pursuit of the battle, still waving her pom-poms.

"Who's the lake monster?" Ginny asked passively, choosing another sweet from the plates of food magically untouched by the torrential downpour.

"Giant squid from the lake," George informed her, his tone bored. He stuck out his tongue and made a booing noise.

"I don't see a squid," Draco challenged the brother, surreptitiously stuffing the Reese's down his throat.

"It's Snape: the squid is his animagus," Fred elaborated. "And currently James has brought him to the ground. Oily bastard better not get back up."

"I'm guessing the werewolf is Lupin?" Ginny asked, squinting her eyes to make out the battling forms.

Two enormous dogs were bounding, side by side, led by a human which Ginny assumed to be James. Soon Ginny no longer needed to squint as the trio came tearing into view, terror written on their faces. Ginny gulped, her eyes bulging as she saw what was chasing them: a dragon. A huge, live, _fire-breathing _dragon.

Luckily, they seemed to be making a good escape. Lupin, in the form of werewolf, was swiftly moving to the front of the retreating group, blind fear shining in his yellow eyes. James had even abandoned the slow motion running he had been using during the entirety of the fight; he was charging forward at such a maddened gait that clumps of mud and grass were flying up behind him.

They tore by the quilt on which the four of them sat. Ginny's wet hair was flung back into Draco's face at the sudden gust of wind their passing brought on. She turned her attention back to the éclair, brushing off the mud that had splattered onto it; the dragon and its prey entirely forgotten.

"No, Sirius!" An unearthly howl rent the air. "_NO! !_"

Ginny, in the act of raising the éclair to her mouth, glanced back in the direction of the fleeing trio. She'd hardly done so before the enormous black dog, foaming at the mouth and a hellish fire in its eyes, doubled and circled past her – making in the direction of the approaching dragon.

James was screaming imprecations and starting back, he was still forming the word _no_, dragging it out in slow motion even as he painstakingly raised a leg to pursue his friend.

But Sirius was already lost. The mangy canine had already charged right up to the scarlet dragon. The winged reptilian, taken aback, stopped mid-charge and stared down at him. Sirius was yipping happily, darting back and forth in front of the beast, and wagging his tail.

"_Nooooo!_" James was still screaming out the word. He had been for the last thirty seconds. He'd managed to run three feet forward, rain streaming down on him.

The dragon, still glaring down at Sirius, let out a plume of smoke. Sirius was still waving his tail happily, but he'd started running in circles around the creature. On the third round, he abruptly stopped, still sniffing the dragon's enormous leg. James managed to slow-run another foot.

"…noooo!" James was hardly audible. No one was paying any attention to him anyways.

A small fit of giggles erupted from Ginny as she saw what Sirius was doing.

"Oh no, no!" The announcer cried out across the battle field. "McGonagall's done it this time! She's triggered it! She singed his fur and by God he'll get her! SIRIUS: THE ENTIRELY TAMED DOMESTICATED DOG has activated his SPECIAL DEFENSIVE POWER!"

Sirius, leg uplifted, had begun to pee on the dragon's foot. Ginny collapsed onto Draco as another fit of laughter overtook her. She could feel Draco chortling from beneath her.

"Dear God, Sirius! You better run for it now – McGonagall's not gonna take THAT standing up! Smoke is _flaring _out of her nostrils! But wait – what's this? An unidentified, I repeat UNIDENTIFIED, person is on the field! Get off you bloody wanker!"

Ginny managed to calm her giggling as she pushed herself from Draco's chest, ignoring the curious glances the twins gave her. She searched the field hastily until her eyes snagged on the person the commentator had mentioned. Squinting her eyes at the dark form, she tried to make out who it was.

"EXOTIC HENCHMAN!" Ginny whipped her head around to land on Harry, who was screaming at the top of his lungs, working into a fit rage. "HURRY THE HELL UP! MY FATHER WILL NOT LOSE!"

Draco snorted at Harry's outburst, muttering something about Pothead being incapable of referring to people by their rightful names. Ginny refrained from mentioning that Draco didn't either.

Dean was prancing about Dragon-McGonagall, clad in only a loincloth, with something that resembled white henna paint all over his body. Faintly, Ginny could make out him chanting something in some foreign language. It sounded more like clicking than actual words.

"I thought you were African!" Ginny heard a distant shout ring out from across the field.

"Yeah!" Another chimed in from Ginny's left.

"Shut up – he's doing a rain dance!" It sounded like Ernie Macmillian.

"That's Native American, you idiot!" Someone had rounded on Ernie.

"Yeah! He's not Native American!"

"You're not Native American!" The first voice concluded, bellowing once more in Dean's direction.

As the shouts spiraled toward him through the rain, Dean paused, momentarily stopping his awkward click-chanting. "My people _invented _Native Americans!" he hollered loudly.

There was a collective groan from those gathered about the hill. No one bothered to challenge this clearly fabricated statement.

With a final motion, Dean straightened from his crouch, flinging his arms high above his head, which whipped back. Almost instantaneously Dean was engulfed in a bout of flame which licked its way from his feet up. He was unaffected by the inferno. Apparently this was his grand finale.

Then Dean resumed his mantra and fiery chains sprouted from the conflagration which surrounded him, winding their way about McGonagall until the fire had vanished from Dean. McGonagall was left crouching there, entirely bound.

"Foul! _FOUL! _That is a BLOODY FOUL! Someone get that PRAT off of the FIELD! !"

Ginny was frowning. "Something about his voice…it's familiar…"

Draco paid her no mind, even though she was sitting right next to him.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts had materialized in the midst of the storm, still smoking from his clover pipe. A hushed awe fell over the spectators, and Dean slowed in his maddened rain dance, water dripping down his tattooed arms.

"Damn, Thomas is going down," George hissed, his voice barely audible.

Dumbledore stopped right in front of Dean, who was slowly rising up from the ground to his full height. Dragon-McGonagall was straining against her bonds. There was no sign of Lake-Monster Snape, James or Lupin.

"Now, now, there will be no impersonating Native Americans at." Dumbledore's voice was stern. He still looked vacant though. Green smoke was pluming up from his pipe.

"My people invented-"

Dumbledore held up a hand, cutting Dean off. Slowly, he withdrew his pipe. There was another awed moment of silence.

The commentator broke it. "Could it be that DUMBLEDORE will smoke the INDIAN PEACE PIPE with DEAN THOMAS?"

"Oh my GOD, it's Creevey!" Ginny shrieked, her head whipping about. Rain droplets splattered from her hair onto Draco. "I'm going to kill him! Where is he?"

Before Ginny could hunt down Colin, who Draco now realized was the one commentating on the battle, there was a flash of white light and Dumbledore vanished. In the next instant, a bestial howl erupted from the audience.

"No! He _escaped_!" The Wild Thing, barely visible through the rain, started to cry. Hideous, blubbering noises echoed around them.

But no one was looking at Hagrid. Their eyes were pinioned upon Dumbledore or, more aptly termed, Aslan.

Draco groaned. He couldn't handle this. He'd already dealt with Narnia or whatever the hell that world had been called the day before. As well as Alagaësia and Middle Earth.

Aslan-Dumbledore had leapt toward Dean with a roar and Dean, shrieking something about his "exotic face" had lithely jumped to the side and, with a speed that no one believed him capable of, tore off across the field and toward the castle.

Dumbledore, giving up pursuit of Dean, loped back toward Dragon McGonagall. He'd nearly reached her when something massive and gray darted across his vision. Lupin bowled into Dumbledore. The enormous lion was flung back against a nearby tree with a roar, rain pounding down on all of them, and Lupin howled his victory to the sky.

James tore into view moments later, his wand in his hand. He was entirely unchanged. Lily, dressed as an all-out cheerleader with pink nailpolish and massive sunglasses (despite the rain and complete lack of sunlight) skipped after him, waving red and gold pom-poms up toward the lightning strewn sky.

"And JAMES: the ORIGINAL harry potter (with no "god" powers, lightning scar, quirky friends, or strange Oedipus complex that the author has chosen to ignore)," Colin paused for breath, "_has arrived_ on scene!" The announcement reverberated across the hill. "It is not looking good for our headmaster!"

"Surrender, Albus!" James aimed his wand toward the lion's neck threateningly, Lupin and Sirius growling on either side of him. Dumbledore blinked at him, otherwise unresponsive.

Ginny realized that there were four-leaf clovers entwined in his mane.

"LORD ASLAN! I WILL _SAVE YOU_!"

Everyone turned. Firenze the centaur was galloping forward at a wild gait, rain streaming down on him. For a moment no one knew what to say.

"And FRENZY THE CENTAUR is riding forward to DUMBLEDORE's rescue!" Colin announced.

"It's _Firenze_, you halfwit!" the centaur bellowed, withdrawing his wand.

"What's that, FRENZY, YOU HALF-ASS?" Colin challenged.

Firenze hadn't the chance to retort, for he'd already waved his wand over himself. There was a flash of light and the centaur disappeared. He was replaced by a guppy.

He flopped about awkwardly for a few moments, desperate for water.

No one said anything. They just continued to watch the purple and yellow guppy as it flopped up and down on the grass.

Dumbledore removed his golden eyes from his savior-turned-guppy. James flicked his eyes back onto Aslan, digging his wand further into his mane.

"Surrender, _feline_."

Dumbledore let out a half-roar. James rolled his eyes and began muttering to himself. In a cool green flash of light, James summoned his patronus. The silvery stag appeared in the midst of the rainstorm.

"Oh. Oh. REALLY! A stag. You jest." Draco snickered upon seeing James's patronus, looking conspiratorially in the twins' direction. "I could just dial 1-800-Insta-Hunter and this battle would be over right now. Or maybe 1-800-Taxadermist. Choices, choices."

Fred narrowed his eyes. "Why would you _ever _do that?"

"Yeah!" George chimed in. "The ORIGINAL pranksters are our role models."

Before Draco could respond a massive squid hopped over towards them, pulsating somewhat whenever it landed. Draco would have described Snape as more of a Kraken than a squid.

Just as Draco was about to voice his creative difference, one of Snape's many tentacles twisted toward the stag, grappling with it and dragging it to the ground. Draco decided it best not to mention that it would prove more effective had he grabbed Jamesinstead.

A loud barking coupled with a feral snarl erupted from the two canines on James's team, as they bounded towards Snape. The werewolf leapt into the sky, digging his claws into Snape's purple, gelatinous flesh.

"And Lupin's got a nasty hold of Snapey there! The LAKE MONSTER might go down, the WEREWOLF has got him in one mean DEATH-GRIP! But no, no – WHAT'S THIS! LUPIN has triggered the SNAPE MONSTER'S defenses! Here goes his INK-JET-OF-BLACK-STICKY-DOOM! ! My God, Sirius has got a plan to save you! Just hold in there, LUPIN! THE ENTIRELY DOMESTICATED DOG, SIRIUS has begun digging about Snape! Dear God! He's hedging him in! Mother…HOW WILL SNAPE GET OUT! He's trapped! That DOG has got him! I can't believe this is happening! I NEVER THOUGHT WE'D SEE THIS: SIRIUS, THE ENTIRELY DOMESTICATED DOG, HAS DUG A TRENCH AROUND SNAPE! HOW WILL HE ESCAPE?"

Snape, as if in answer to Colin's question, swiftly hopped over the "trench" which Sirius had dug. He favored the growling black dog with a withering eye. The black dog soon joined in Lupin's crusade against Snape's slimy flesh, sinking his teeth into the blubbery tentacles.

"Looks like your side-kick is down. SURRENDER, CAT!" James cried out to "Aslan".

Dumbledore didn't respond.

"Not so fast!" A bubbling squeak sounded from the all but forgotten fish that was Frenzy. "I have lured you into a false sense of security!" The squeaking fish continued, sounding thoroughly outraged. "This is not my true animagus form!" Another flash engulfed the two-inch long fish.

When the light cleared Frenzy was a turtle.

"Not even a snapping turtle," Ginny murmured to Draco, never moving her eyes from the scene unfolding before them.

"Or a Squirtle," George chimed in merrily, happy that his chosen team was clearly victorious.

Frenzy waddled at an agonizingly slow rate towards James. He bared his tiny, almost nonexistent, blunt teeth at James's leg. He then began poking James with a squashed green flipper. After several moments of this passed, Frenzy overbalanced, falling onto his back. His legs flailed uselessly about him. James, after a moment of indecision, kicked him. Firenze the turtle went spinning across the soaked grass, landing somewhere beyond Ginny's line of vision.

"And the battle for the CHAMBER –"

Colin's voice was drowned out by a thundering flapping of wings. Everyone's heads whipped up to the grey skies above. Draco heard Ginny's breath catch in her throat as she took in the massive sapphire beast soaring through the rain above them.

"Murtagh!" A magically enhanced voice screamed down towards them. "GET OUT! I can't –" The voice paused and the dragon above slowed, beginning to circle above the red McGonagall dragon which the Rider had clearly mistaken for his brother's beast. "THORN!" The outraged farm boy's voice resumed. "WHERE'S MY BROTHER? YOU NEED TO GET OUT BEFORE GALBATORIX FINDS YOU!"

"How _dare _you block my divine view of the skies!" Draco didn't need to turn about to realize it was Harry who had rounded on the strange dragon and its Rider. "Do you not know the storm is here for _me? _That I have SUMMONED it? Do you not _see_," Hermione lifted Harry's jet-black hair from his forehead for the farm boy to _see_, "this lightning scar on my CELESTIAL BROW? You ignorant peasant!"

Silence.

More silence.

"I can't believe Harry's talking to Eragon like that!" Ginny whispered scathingly towards Draco. "I mean, he's only trying to get a plot line going for his books. It's only been _two years_, and he doesn't even have a _title_!"

Eragon, seeming to have realized his fatal mistake in blocking Harry's view of the storming skies, flew off with his dragon from whence they had come.

"And the battle for the CHAMBER OF SECRETS has resumed! It seems unlikely that ZEH MUTANTS will gain any edge over THE original PRANKSTERS!"

"I'm sorry, for the what?" Harry's voice rang out imperiously over the hill. He didn't wait for Colin's reply. "For THE WHAT!" He struck his fist against the blanket bitterly. Hermione failed in her attempts to calm him. "That is mine! THAT IS MY TERRITORY! THE SNAKES FORESAW IT AS SUCH, AND RESTORED MY GIFT OF PARSELMOUTH. IT IS MY SANCTUM, YOU OAF! This is ALL OVER." Harry motioned his hand about towards the gathering at large. "Return to your hovels, and reflect on your unmentionable sins."

Everyone gaped at Harry.

With a strangled cry, Harry collapsed onto the blanket, hiding his head behind Hermione's back. She patted his side affectionately.

"_Stop staring at me, _you wart-infested goblins!"

Hermione sighed, and with a flick of her wand, she and her newly-wedded husband vanished. Draco vaguely wondered where Ron had wandered off to.

"Well…er," Colin's voice rang out shakily; clearly afraid of Harry's retribution. "It's…it's over now."

James lowered the wand slowly from Dumbledore's mane, even as the headmaster returned to his previous human form. The two hugged.

Sirius and Lupin shifted back into their rightful shapes. McGonagall, released from her bonds, also returned to a human. The three shook hands, smiles on their faces.

Trelawney and Lily, previously unnoticed, stopped attacking each other and changed back to their normal clothes, each indifferent to the other.

Snape morphed back into his greasy self, drenched in blood from the wounds Lupin and Sirius had dealt him. No one gave him a second glance.

"Hey, where's Frenzy?" Ginny called out over the field, searching for the minuscule turtle.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but _NAMES _will never hurt me," Firenze sobbed, repeating the song over and over to himself, as he awkwardly clutched his hybrid self. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Oi – somethin's upset Frenzy!" Another cry rang out from one of the various students.

"Ahhh! That's it!" Firenze wrenched himself to his hooves, his eyes red from tears, and tore wildly towards the Forbidden Forest.

There were a few moments of silence as they all considered that their Divination professor probably would not be coming back.

"Shame. Shame," Fred muttered, starting to pack up the food. He shook his head. "I was looking forward to Zeh Mutants losing to the Original pranksters all over again."

"Hear hear," George seconded.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "And what makes you think Zeh Mutants wouldn't win? I mean, did you _see _McGonagall?"

Fred tittered. George rolled his eyes. "It's so _obvious_. James, Lupin, and Sirius always win. The others are just idiots … morons … _nubs_ in comparison."

"Snape is a _Slytherin_ and inherently brilliant," Draco retorted. "He's the only one that actually sustained a wound! He didn't even flinch."

"That's because it's _blubber_! You don't _feel_ blubber!" Fred spat, glaring over at him.

"Well Dumbledore's the Headmaster of Hogwarts _and_ Aslan to top it off! He practically rules two different worlds, you prats!" Ginny argued.

"Is that so, little sis?" George sneered.

"I am NOT little!" Ginny shrieked, flinging a stray, half-eaten éclair at her brother.

"Yeah, I was forgetting," George paused. "You're our dear little _whore_ sister."

"Hey, watch who you're calling a whore!" Draco defended Ginny, glaring suddenly at Fred.

The twins seemed taken aback by Draco's words. They were speechless for several moments.

"You're…you _ruined_ our peace picnic!" Fred spluttered at last. "We were being mature about things!" He narrowed his eyes in Draco's direction.

"_Oh, please_." Ginny cut in, jabbing a finger at Fred. "Like we bought that for a _second_!"

"I think Ginny's enjoying the return of her brain, Fred. Don't you?" George asked in a sickly sweet voice, his furious glare never leaving Draco's: he didn't appreciate the pair's obvious bonding.

"Oh but George," Fred sighed theatrically, "how can she have it back when she never had it in the first?"

George snorted. "I forgot – Ginny's ruled entirely by her hormones! That's probably the only reason she manages a reasonable conversation with a _Malfoy_."

Ginny shrieked something unintelligible as Draco snarled furiously at the twins. Before either could act on their anger, George had thrown a hex in Ginny's direction, which momentarily sent her mouth dripping off her face before she managed a counter-hex.

"Oh the war is _so _back on!" She screeched, her eyes ablaze with fury.

Before either side could react, a loud splash sounded from behind them as Snape, entirely forgotten, plunged head-first into his home, the roiling black lake. James followed Snape without a second thought, diving into the dark waters with Lily close behind him.

Thunder rumbled ominously across the sky, as if to signify that neither war was over.

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the delay, I've been readjusting to school, etc. and it took a bit longer than usual for an update :(**

**muahaha:** lol sorry for the delay, and I hope you liked this chapter too!

**Captain-Obvious:** haha ok sure. Yeah, I don't think we'll be seeing James and Lily again, but it was funny in this chapter. ahaha and I did enjoy that "FIE" line. I was dying just writing it :)

**Enrique4Sal:** Yeah, I got a little carried away I think, but I promise it's the end of the cross-overs now. From now on, straight up HP ffn. I swear. Thanks for sticking with the story so long!

**melanie f:** yay! Someone got my Liam Neeson reference :) And I do promise more Draco/Ginny. Coming up ... soon ...

**Chris Ti**: lol, I love referring to Hagrid as that. It was tons of fun to have Hagrid steal Aslan too (my sister helped my come up with that one, so to her the credit). Thanks for sticking so long with the story!


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